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LL I feel, and hear, and

God of love, is full of Thee !
Earth with her ten thousand flowers-
Air with all its beams and showers

Ocean's infinite expanse-
Heaven's resplendent countenance-
All around and all above,
Hath this record “ God is love."

Sounds among the vales and hills,
In the woods and by the rills,
Of the breeze and of the bird,
By the gentle summer stirred ;-
All these fongs, beneath, above-
Have one burden" God is love."

All the hopes and fears that start
From the fountain of the heart;
All the quiet bliss that lies
In our human fympathies ;
These are voices from above
Sweetly whispering—“God is love."
All I feel and hear and see
God of love, is full of Thee.

Rev. J. R. TAYLOR.




HEY fin who tell us Love can die-
With life all other passions fly,

All others are but vanity.
In Heaven Ambition cannot dwell,

Nor Avarice in the vaults of Hell;
Earthly these passions of the Earth,
They perish where they have their birth.

But love is indestructible-
Its holy flame for ever burneth,
From Heaven it came, to Heaven returneth;
Too oft on Earth a troubled guest,
At times deceived, at times opprest,
It here is tried and purified,
Then hath in Heaven its perfect reft ;
It soweth here with toil and care,
But the harvest time of Love is there.

Oh! when a Mother meets on high
The Babe she loft in infancy,
Hath she not then, for pains and fears,
The day of woe, the watchful night,
For all her forrow, all her tears,
An overpayment of delight?





Y Joy, my Life, my Crown!
My heart was meaning all the day,

Somewhat it fain would say;
And still it runneth mutt'ring up and

With only this, My Joy, my Life, my Crown!

Yet slight not these few words ; If truly said, they may take part

Among the best in art. The finenefle which a hymne or pfalme affords, Is, when the soul unto the lines accords.

He who craves all the minde,
And all the foul, and strength, and time,

If the words onely rhyme,
Juftly complains, that somewhat is behinde
To make his verse, or write a hymne in kinde.

Whereas if th' heart be moved, Although the verse be somewhat scant,

God doth supplie the want. As when th' heart says (fighing to be approved) Oh, could I love ! and stops ; God writeth, Loved.





MAN, consider thoughtfully,
How we, the small sands, pass away,

For thou art passing too !
Gently and by degrees,
Thus thou too must decrease ;

Thy days and years how few !
We fall indeed quite lightly ;
But daily still, and nightly,

We never cease to run.
And when the last of all
Our little grains shall fall,
Tby latest hour is done!





OW swiftly glide life's transient scenes


“ Like vernal leaves men flourish and

Thus sung, in days of yore, the Chian

bard ;
This maxim all have heard, but none regard.
None keep in mind this falutary truth,
Hope still survives, that flatters us in youth.

What fruitless schemes amuse our blooming years !
The man in health, nor age, nor sickness fears ;
Nay, youth's and life's contracted space forgot,
Scarce thinks that death will ever be his lot.
But thcu thy mind's fair bias still obey,
Nor from the paths of virtue ever stray.




ET not the stealing god of sleep surprise,

in slumbers on thy weary
Ere every action of the former day,

Strictly thou doft and righteouslysurvey. With reverence at thy own tribunal stand, And answer justly to thy own demand, Where have I been? In what have I transgressed? What good, or ill, has this day's life expressed ? Where have I failed in what I ought to do? In what to God, to man, or to myself I owe? Inquire severe ; whate'er from first to laft, From morning's dawn till evening's gloom has past. If evil were thy deeds, repenting mourn, And let thy soul with strong remorse be torn. If good, the good with peace of mind repay, And to thy secret self with pleasure say, “Rejoice, my heart, for all went well to-day,"


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