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And, thus the work of prayer begun,
Thou well mayst say, "Thy will be done."

Emily Taylor.



But, if ye forgive not men their trespasses, neither will your Father forgive your trespasses."— Matthew vi. 15.

On God! my sins are manifold, against my life they cry,

And all my guilty deeds foregone, up to thy temple fly;

Wilt thou release my trembling soul, that to despair is driven?

'Forgive!' a blessed voice replied, and thou shalt be forgiven !'

My foemen, Lord! are fierce and fell, they spurn me in their pride,

They render evil for my good, my patience they deride;

Arise, oh King! and be the proud to righteous ruin driven !

'Forgive!' and awful answer came, ' as thou wouldst be forgiven !'

Seven times, oh Lord! I pardoned them, seven times they sinned again :

They practise still to work me woe, they triumph in my pain;

But let them dread my vengeance now, to just resentment driven !

'Forgive!' the voice of thunder spake, 'or never be forgiven!'


"Behold the fowls of the air:"
"Consider the lilies of the field:"-Matt. vi. 26, 28.


YE too, the free and fearless Birds of air,
Were charged that hour, on missionary wing,
The same bright lesson o'er the seas to bear,
Heaven-guided wanderers with the winds of

Sing on, before the storm and after, sing!
And call us to your echoing woods away
From worldly cares; and bid our spirits bring
Faith to imbibe deep wisdom from your lay.
may those blessed vernal strains renew
Childhood, a childhood yet more pure


and true E'en than the first, within th' awaken'd mind; While sweetly, joyously, they tell of life, That knows no doubts, no questionings, no strife, But hangs upon its God, unconsciously resign'd.

Mrs Hemans.


FLOWERS! when the Saviour's calm benignant eye
Fell on your gentle beauty—when from you
That heavenly lesson for all hearts he drew,
Eternal, universal, as the sky-
Then, in the bosom of your purity,

A voice He set, as in a temple-shrine,
That life's quick travellers ne'er might pass you by
Unwarn'd of that sweet oracle divine.
And though too oft its low, celestial sound,
By the harsh notes of work-day Care is drown'd,
And the loud steps of vain, unlistening Haste,

Yet, the great ocean hath no tone of power Mightier to reach the soul, in thought's hush'd hour, Than yours, ye

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Lilies! chosen thus and graced!

Mrs Hemans.


Lo, the lilies of the field,

How their leaves instruction yield!
Hark to nature's lesson given
By the blessed birds of Heaven.
Every bush and tufted tree
Warbles sweet philosophy;
'Mortal, fly from doubt and sorrow :
God provideth for the morrow.

'Say, with richer crimson glows
The kingly mantle than the rose ?
Say, have kings more wholesome fare
Than we poor citizens of air?
Barns nor hoarded grain have we,
Yet we carol merrily.

Mortal, fly from doubt and sorrow,
God provideth for the morrow.

'One there lives whose guardian eye
Guides our humble destiny:
One there lives, who Lord of all,
Keeps our feathers lest they fall:
Pass we blithely, then, the time,
Fearless of the snare and lime,
Free from doubt and faithless sorrow;
God provideth for the morrow.'



IMPERIAL beauty! fair, unrivalled one!
What flower of earth has honor high as thine,—
To find its name on His unsullied lips,
Whose eye was light from heaven?

In vain the power

Of human voice to swell the strains of praise Thou hast received; and which will ever sound

Long as the page of inspiration shines

While mortal songs shall die as summer winds
That, wafting off thine odors, sink to sleep!
I will not praise thee, then; but thou shalt be
My hallowed flower! the sweetest, purest thoughts
Shall cluster round thee, as thy snowy bells
On the green, polished stalk, that puts them forth;
I will consider thee, and meet my cares
In the bland accents of His soothing voice,
Who, from the hill of Palestine, looked round
For a fair specimen of skill divine ;
And, pointing out the Lily of the field,
Declared, the wisest of all Israel's kings,
In his full glory, not arrayed like thee !*

H. F. Gould.


"And every one that heareth these sayings of mine and doeth them not, shall be likened unto a foolish man, which built his house upon the sand; and the rain descended, and the floods came, and the winds blew, and beat upon that house; and it fell; and great was the fall of it." - Matthew vii. 26, 27.

BUILD'ST thou on Wealth? - its wings are ever


Its trusting votaries to elude and foil.

*It is quite doubtful whether the lily referred to by the Saviour was the white lily. See Harris' Nat. His. of the Bible.

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