I see him in the daily round

Of social duty, mild and meek;
With him I tread the hallow'd ground,
Communion with my God to seek.

I see his pitying, gentle eye,

When lonely want appeals for aid; I hear him in the frequent sigh,

That mourns the waste which sin has made.

I meet him at the lowly tomb;

I

weep where Jesus wept before;

And there above the grave's dark gloom,

I see him rise and weep no more.

Does friendship gild my favor'd state,
O faithful to the last! be mine
Thy blessed course to emulate,

And pray for truth, for love like thine!
Then ask me not to live, and be

A stranger to that generous flame,
Which warms, and, to eternity,

Must warm my soul at Jesus' name.
Emily Taylor.

IV.

"Peace I leave with you."- John xiv. 27.

"PEACE" was the song the Angels sang, When Jesus sought this vale of tears, And sweet that heavenly prelude rang,

To calm the watchful shepherds' fears, "War" is the word that man hath spoke, Convuls'd by passions dark and dread, And Pride enforc'd a lawless yoke

Even while the Gospel's banner spread. "Peace" was the prayer the Saviour breathed When from our world his steps withdrew, The gift he to his friends bequeathed

With Calvary and the Cross in view: Redeemer with admiring love

Our spirits take thy rich bequest, The watchword of the host above,

The passport to their realm of rest.

Mrs Sigourney.

V.

"Ye are my friends, if ye do whatsoever I command you."-John xv. 14.

WHERE shall I find, in all this fleeting earth,

This world of changes and farewells, a friend That will not fail me in his love and worth, Tender, and firm, and faithful to the end?

Far hath my spirit sought a place of rest
Long on vain idols its devotion shed;
Some have forsaken whom I loved the best,
And some deceived, and some are with the dead.

But thou, my Saviour! thou, my hope and trust, Faithful art thou when friends and joys depart; Teach me to lift these yearnings from the dust, And fix on thee, Unchanging One, my heart!

Mrs Hemans.

THE GARDEN OF GETHSEMANE.

"They went out into the Mount of Olives."-Matt. xxvi. 30.

I.

-

'Tis night; a lovely night:- and lo!
Like men in vision seen,

The Saviour and his brethren go,
Silent, and sorrowful, and slow,

Led by heaven's lamp serene,

From Salem's height, o'er Kedron's stream, To Olivet's dark steep;

There o'er past joys, gone like a dream,
O'er future woes, that present seem,

In solitude to weep.

Heaven on their earthly hopes has frown'd;
Their dream of thrones has fled;
The table that his love has crown'd,
They ne'er again shall gather round,
With Jesus at their head.

Blast not, O God, this hope of ours,
The hope of sins forgiven;-
Then when our friends the grave devours,
When all the world around us lowers,

We'll look from earth to heaven.

Pierpont.

II.

·

"Then cometh Jesus with them unto a place called Gethsemane, and saith unto his disciples; Sit ye here, while I go and pray yonder.'"- Matthew xxvi. 36.

O'ER Kedron's stream, and Salem's height,
And Olivet's brown steep,

Moves the majestic queen of night,

And throws from heaven her silver light,
And sees the world asleep.

All but the children of distress,
Of sorrow, grief and care
Whom sleep, though prayed for, will not bless;
These leave the couch of restlessness,

To breathe the cool, calm air.

For those who shun the glare of day,
There's a composing power
That meets them on their lonely way,
In the still air, the sober
Of this religious hour.

ray..

"T is a religious hour; for he
Who many a grief shall bear,
In his own body on the tree,
Is kneeling in Gethsemane,
In agony and prayer.

O, Holy Father, when the light
Of earthly joy grows dim,

May hope in Christ grow strong and bright, To all who kneel, in sorrow's night,

In trust and prayer like him.

Pierpont.

III.

"O my Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from me; nevertheless, not as I will, but as thou wilt."

"Behold, he is at hand that doth betray me."

Matthew xxvi. 39, 46.

THE moon was shining yet. The Orient's brow
Set with the morning star, was not yet dim ;
And the deep silence which subdues the breath
Like a strong feeling, hung upon the world
As sleep upon the pulses of a child.