THE CHURCH.

PURE and holy is the source, Whence thy stream, O Zion, rose ; See, majestic in its course,

Regions vast it overflows, Fertilizing like the Nile, Barren continent and isle.

Angel-ministers attend

On its flow'ry margins meetHeavenly-choral anthems blend, (Music ravishingly sweet)

With a SAVIOUR'S voice divine,
Turning all its floods to wine.

Ho, ye thirsty, gather round,
Drink your everlasting fill!

Hear the gospel tidings sound

Peace on earth, to men good will !” Yet unbroken is the strain,

Heard upon the shepherd's plain.

CHRIST, the BISHOP of our souls,

Open will the channel keep; Free the tide of mercy rolls,

As the billows of the deep; Broad and copious as the wave, Is the mission that he gave :

Ev'ry creature go and teach,
You I send as I am sent,
Wide ordained my word' to preach,
Calling millions to repent,-

This uninterrupted line

Shall be endless-is divine."

Lo the CHURCH of CHRIST appears
Fair in lustre as the moon!

Brighter, from the night of years,

Than the cloudless Sun at noon

Terribly she moves along,
As an army-banner'd throng!

Life dispensing as she goes,

Glory beaming from her face, Conquering her rebellious foes,

By the pow'r of boundless graceBy the Spirit's two-edg'd sword— Througn the might of CHRIST our LORD.

DEATH.

DEATH!-what a dreadful thought to those Who build their heav'n on earth, and lay The basis of their future woes,

Which floods can never wash away.

On rocks whilst all their hopes must stand Like dwellings but upon the sand.

Plagues, like the billows of the deep,
Around their frail foundations pour;
Their honors level'd at a sweep,

And lo! their glory is no more!
Eternity's tremendous waves

Of ficry vengeance, prove their graves!

DEATH!-how appalling is the sound
To age yet unprepared to die--

TO AGE

who surely must have found
That life's last watch is passing by,
And yet, G madness! never seem
To wake from folly's awful dream!.

DEATH!-how alarming is the call

To youth, by lawless pleasures led,
Who see their inmates daily fall,”
Amid gay sports among the dead;
And yet their dangerous course pursue,
With naught but keen remorse in view.,

DEATH!-Dark and dismal is the sight,
To all who are of sin the slave ;
To those who never saw that light
Which cheers our passage to the grave;

To those who never felt that love,
Which charms the raptur'd hosts above.

But--DEATH! how welcome to the soul

Diseas'd and sorrowing-pain'd with fears

Till by a lively faith made whole,
And wash'd in penitential tears,
It longs to mingle with the bless'd--
Longs for a heav'n of holy rest.

HYMN FOR THANKSGIVING.
DECEMBER 22, 1819.

TO THEE, ALMIGHTY LORD, we raise
Our hearts and hands in pray'r and praise,
For all thy mercies plead and prove
Thy word is true, that " GOD IS LOVE."

How many dangers, woes and fears,
Have pass'd like dreams of other years,
How many blessings from above,

Sound as they fall, that " GOD IS LOVE.'

That pestilence, whose venom'd breath
Infus'd the very life of Death,

The voice of mercy bade " remove,"

And thus proclaim'd that " GOD IS LOVE."

The bounteous products of the soil,

The rich reward of honest toil,

To praise the LORD our tongues should move, For these attest, that "GOD IS LOVE."

Freedom her golden gifts extends
To us, her faithful chosen friends;

The breeze of health waves every grove,
And gently whispers, "GOD IS LOVE."

Science her light around us pours,
Religion triumphs-Faith adores,
While peace, the heavenly turtle-dove,
Coos in soft strains, that " GOD IS LOVE."

But brighter attestations shine

Recorded in that Book divine,

The SAVIOUR's mission from above,

SEALS THE GREAT TRUTH, THAT GOD IS LOVE.

TO A CHRISTIAN BELIEVER UNDER

AFFLICTION.

HEIR of immortal glory! why

At care and want repine?

Hast thou not joys enough on high ?

Are not heav'n's treasures thine ?

Treasures which neither moth nor rust
Corrupts, nor thieves can share ;
But opened by the pure and just,
The key of faith in prayer.

Why then so wretched? come, relate
What weighs thy spirits down?

Has FRIENDSHIP turn'd her love to hate,
And left thee with a frown?