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Thou "living dead man," let thy spirit leap Forth to the day, and let the fresh air blow Through thy soul's shut-up mansion. Wouldst thou know

Something of what is life, shake off this death;
Have thy soul feel the universal breath

With which all nature's quick, and learn to be
Sharer in all that thou dost touch or see;
Break from thy body's grasp, thy spirit's trance;
Give thy soul air, thy faculties expanse ;
Love, joy, even sorrow, - yield thyself to all!
They make thy freedom, groveller, not thy thrall.
Knock off the shackles which thy spirit bind
To dust and sense, and set at large the mind!
Then move in sympathy with God's great whole,
And be like man at first, a LIVING SOUL.

RICHARD HENRY DANA.

SIT DOWN, SAD SOUL.

SIT down, sad soul, and count
The moments flying;
Come, tell the sweet amount
That's lost by sighing!
How many smiles? - - a score?
Then laugh, and count no more;
For day is dying!

Lie down, sad soul, and sleep,

And no more measure
The flight of time, nor weep

The loss of leisure;

But here, by this lone stream,
Lie down with us, and dream
Of starry treasure!

We dream; do thou the same;

We love, forever;

We laugh, yet few we shame,

The gentle never.

Stay, then, till sorrow dies;
Then hope and happy skies
Are thine forever!

BARRY CORNWALL.

TELL ME, YE WINGED WINDS.

TELL me, ye wingéd winds,

That round my pathway roar,

Do ye not know some spot

Where mortals weep no more? Some lone and pleasant dell, Some valley in the west, Where, free from toil and pain,

The weary soul may rest?

The loud wind dwindled to a whisper low, And sighed for pity as it answered, — “No.”

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GREENWOOD CEMETERY.

How calm they sleep beneath the shade
Who once were weary of the strife,
And bent, like us, beneath the load
Of human life!

The willow hangs with sheltering grace
And benediction o'er their sod,
And Nature, hushed, assures the soul
They rest in God.

O weary hearts, what rest is here,
From all that curses yonder town!
So deep the peace, I almost long
To lay me down.

For, O, it will be blest to sleep,

Nor dream, nor move, that silent night, Till wakened in immortal strength And heavenly light!

CRAMMOND KENNEDY.

NOTHING BUT LEAVES.

NOTHING but leaves; the spirit grieves
Over a wasted life;

Sin committed while conscience slept,
Promises made but never kept,
Hatred, battle, and strife;
Nothing but leaves !

Nothing but leaves; no garnered sheaves
Of life's fair, ripened grain;
Words, idle words, for earnest deeds;
We sow our seeds, -lo! tares and weeds;
We reap, with toil and pain,
Nothing but leaves !

THE UNIVERSAL PRAYER.

FATHER of all! in every age,

In every clime adored, By saint, by savage, and by sage, Jehovah, Jove, or Lord!

.Thou great First Cause, least understood, Who all my sense confined

To know but this, that thou art good,

And that myself am blind;

Yet gave me, in this dark estate,
To see the good from ill;
And, binding nature fast in fate,
Left free the human will.

What conscience dictates to be done,
Or warns me not to do,
This, teach me more than hell to shun,
That, more than heaven pursue.

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That mercy

I to others show,

That mercy show to me.

Mean though I am, not wholly so,
Since quickened by thy breath;
O, lead me wheresoe'er I go,

Through this day's life or death!

This day be bread and peace my lot; All else beneath the sun,

Thou know'st if best bestowed or not,
And let thy will be done.

To thee, whose temple is all space,
Whose altar, earth, sea, skies!
One chorus let all Being raise !
All Nature's incense rise!

ALEXANDER POPE.

WRESTLING JACOB.

FIRST PART.

COME, O thou Traveller unknown, Whom still I hold, but cannot see; My company before is gone,

And I am left alone with thee;
With thee all night I mean to stay,
And wrestle till the break of day.

I need not tell thee who I am;
My sin and misery declare;
Thyself hast called me by my name;
Look on thy hands, and read it there;

In vain thou strugglest to get free;
I never will unloose my hold :
Art thou the Man that died for me?
The secret of thy love unfold;
Wrestling, I will not let thee go
Till I thy name, thy nature know.

Wilt thou not yet to me reveal

Thy new, unutterable name? Tell me, I still beseech thee, tell;

To know it now resolved I am; Wrestling, I will not let thee go Till I thy name, thy nature know.

What though my shrinking flesh complain And murmur to contend so long,

I rise superior to my pain;

When I am weak, then am I strong! And when my all of strength shall fail, I shall with the God-man prevail.

SECOND PART.

YIELD to me now, for I am weak,
But confident in self-despair;

Speak to my heart, in blessings speak ;

Be conquered by my instant prayer ; Speak, or thou never hence shalt move, And tell me if thy name be Love.

"T is love! 't is love! Thou diedst for me;
I hear thy whisper in my heart;
The morning breaks, the shadows flee;
Pure, universal love thou art;
To me, to all, thy bowels move;
Thy nature and thy name is Love.

My prayer hath power with God; the grace
Unspeakable I now receive;
Through faith I see thee face to face;

I see thee face to face and live!
In vain I have not wept and strove ;
Thy nature and thy name is Love.

I know thee, Saviour, who thou art,
Jesus, the feeble sinner's friend;
Nor wilt thou with the night depart,

But stay and love me to the end;
Thy mercies never shall remove;
Thy nature and thy name is Love.

The Sun of Righteousness on me

Hath rose, with healing in his wings; Withered my nature's strength; from thee My soul its life and succor brings; My help is all laid up above; Thy nature and thy name is Love.

Contented now upon my thigh

I halt till life's short journey end; All helplessness, all weakness, I

On thee alone for strength depend; Nor have I power from thee to move; Thy nature and thy name is Love.

Lame as I am, I take the prey;

Hell, earth, and sin with ease o'ercome;

I leap for joy, pursue my way,

And, as a bounding hart, fly home; Through all eternity to prove

Thy nature and thy name is Love.

CHARLES WESLEY.

O GOD! OUR HELP IN AGES PAST.

O GOD! our help in ages past,
Our hope for years to come,
Our shelter from the stormy blast,
And our eternal home!

Before the hills in order stood,
Or earth received her frame,
From everlasting thou art God,
To endless years the same.

A thousand ages in thy sight

Are like an evening gone;

Short as the watch that ends the night
Before the rising sun.

Time, like an ever-rolling stream,

Bears all its sons away;
They fly, forgotten, as a dream
Dies at the opening day.

O God! our help in ages past,

Our hope for years to come,

Be thou our guide while troubles last,
And our eternal home!

ISAAC WATTS.

A MIGHTY FORTRESS IS OUR GOD.
EIN' FESTE BURG IST UNSER GOTT.
A MIGHTY fortress is our God,
A bulwark never failing;
Our helper he amid the flood
Of mortal ills prevailing.
For still our ancient foe
Doth seek to work us woe;
His craft and power are great,
And, armed with equal hate,

On earth is not his equal.
Did we in our own strength confide,
Our striving would be losing;
Were not the right man on our side,
The man of God's own choosing.

Dost ask who that may be?
Christ Jesus, it is he,
Lord Sabaoth his name,

From age to age the same,

And he must win the battle.

MARTIN LUTHER. Translation of F. H. HEDGE.

JEWISH HYMN IN JERUSALEM.

GOD of the thunder! from whose cloudy seat
The fiery winds of Desolation flow;
Father of vengeance! that with purple feet

Like a full wine-press tread'st the world below;
The embattled armies wait thy sign to slay,
Nor springs the beast of havoc on his prey,
Nor withering Famine walks his blasted way,
Till thou hast marked the guilty land for woe.

God of the rainbow! at whose gracious sign

The billows of the proud their rage suppress; Father of mercies! at one word of thine

An Eden blooms in the waste wilderness, And fountains sparkle in the arid sands, And timbrels ring in maidens' glancing hands, And marble cities crown the laughing lands,

And pillared temples rise thy name to bless.

O'er Judah's land thy thunders broke, O Lord!
The chariots rattled o'er her sunken gate,
Her sons were wasted by the Assyrian's sword,
Even her foes wept to see her fallen state;
And heaps her ivory palaces became,
Her princes wore the captive's garb of shame,
Her temples sank amid the smouldering flame,
For thou didst ride the tempest cloud of fate.

O'er Judah's land thy rainbow, Lord, shall beam,
And the sad City lift her crownless head,
And songs shall wake and dancing footsteps gleam
In streets where broods the silence of the dead.
The sun shall shine on Salem's gilded towers,
On Carmel's side our maidens cull the flowers
To deck at blushing eve their bridal bowers,
And angel feet the glittering Sion tread.

Thy vengeance gave us to the stranger's hand, And Abraham's children were led forth for slaves.

With fettered steps we left our pleasant land,

Envying our fathers in their peaceful graves. The strangers' bread with bitter tears we steep, And when our weary eyes should sink to sleep, In the mute midnight we steal forth to weep, Where the pale willows shade Euphrates' waves. The born in sorrow shall bring forth in joy;

Thy mercy, Lord, shall lead thy children home;

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And, grateful for the blessing given

With that dear infant on her knee,
She trains the eye to look to heaven,
The voice to lisp a prayer to thee.

Such thanks the blessed Mary gave
When from her lap the Holy Child,
Sent from on high to seek and save
The lost of earth, looked up and smiled.

All-Gracious! grant to those who bear

A mother's charge the strength and light To guide the feet that own their care In ways of Love and Truth and Right.

WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT.

MORTALS, AWAKE! WITH ANGELS JOIN.

MORTALS, awake! with angels join,
And chant the solemn lay;
Joy, love, and gratitude combine
To hail the auspicious day.

In heaven the rapturous song began,
And sweet seraphic fire
Through all the shining legions ran,
And strung and tuned the lyre.

Swift through the vast expanse it flew,
And loud the echo rolled;
The theme, the song, the joy, was new,
'T was more than heaven could hold.

Down through the portals of the sky
Th' impetuous torrent ran;
And angels flew, with eager joy,

To bear the news to man.

Hark! the cherubic armies shout,
And glory leads the song;
"Good-will and peace" are heard throughout
The harmonious angel throng.

Hail, Prince of life! forever hail,

Redeemer, Brother, Friend!

Though earth and time and life should fail, Thy praise shall never end.

THE MOTHER'S HYMN.

"Blessed art thou among women." LORD, who ordainest for mankind

Benignant toils and tender cares, We thank thee for the ties that bind The mother to the child she bears.

We thank thee for the hopes that rise
Within her heart, as, day by day,
The dawning soul, from those young eyes,
Looks with a clearer, steadier ray.

MEDLEY.

HOW SWEET THE NAME OF JESUS SOUNDS!

How sweet the name of Jesus sounds

In a believer's ear!

It soothes his sorrows, heals his wounds, And drives away his fear.

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