The stubborn slave, by hope's new beams subdued,

In faltering accents sobbed his gratitude.

Till, kindling into warmer zeal around,

The virgin timbrel waked its silver sound;

And in fierce joy no more by doubt supprest,
The struggling spirit throbbed in Miriam's breast.
She-with bare arms, and fixing on the sky

The dark transparence of her lucid eye

Poured on the winds of heaven her wild sweet harmony.
"Where now," she sang, "the tall Egyptian spear,
Oris' sunlike shield and Zoan's chariot, where?
Above their ranks the whelming waters spread;
Shout Israel! for the Lord hath triumphed!"

THOU ART GONE TO THE GRAVE.

THOU art gone to the grave-but we will not deplore thee,
Though sorrows and darkness encompass the tomb;
The Saviour has passed through its portals before thee,

And the lamp of his love is thy guide through the gloom.

Thou art gone to the grave-we no longer behold thee,
Nor tread the rough path of the world by thy side,
But the wide arms of mercy are spread to enfold thee,
And sinners may hope since the Sinless has died.

Thou art gone to the grave-and its mansion forsaking,

Perhaps thy tried spirit in doubt lingered long,

But the sunshine of heaven beamed bright on thy waking,

And the song which thou heard'st was the seraphim's song.

Thou art gone to the grave-but 'twere wrong to deplore thee,
When God was thy ranson, thy guardian, thy guide:

He gave thee, and took thee, and soon will restore thee,

Where death hath no sting, since the Saviour hath died.

CHRIST'S SECOND COMING.

THE Lord shall come! the earth shall quake;
The mountains to their centre shake;

And withering from the vault of night,

The stars shall pale their feeble light.

The Lord shall come! but not the same

As once in lowliness He came;

A silent lamb before his foes,

A weary man and full of woes.

The Lord shall come! a dreadful form,
With rainbow-wreath and robes of storm;
On cherub wings and wings of wind,
Appointed Judge of all mankind.

Can this be He, who wont to stray,
A pilgrim on the world's high way;
Oppressed by power, and mocked by pride,
The Nazarene-the crucified?

While sinners in despair shall call,
"Rocks hide us; mountains on us fall;"
The saints, ascending from the tomb,
Shall joyful sing, "The Lord is come!"

HYMN ON THE CREATION.

OH! blest were the accents of early creation,

When the words of Jehovah came down from above,

In the clods of the earth to infuse animation,

And wake their cold atoms to life and to love.

And mighty the tones which the firmament rended,

When on the wheels of the thunder, and wings of the wind,

By lightning and hail, and thick darkness attended,

He uttered on Sinai his laws to mankind.

And sweet was the voice of the first-born of heaven,
Though poor his apparel, though earthly his form;
Who said to the mourner, "Thy sins are forgiven,"
"Be whole" to the sick, and, "Be still" to the storm.

O Judge of the world! when arrayed in thy glory,
Thy summons again shall be heard from on high,
When nature stands trembling and naked before Thee,
And waits on thy sentence to live or to die.

When the heavens shall fly fast from the sound of thy thunder,
And the sun in thy lightnings grow languid and pale,
And the sea yield her dead, and the tomb cleave asunder,
In the hour of thy terrors, let mercy prevail.

HYMN TO THE SEASONS.

WHEN Spring unlocks the flowers, to paint the laughing soil;
When Summer's balmy showers refresh the mower's toil;
When Winter binds in frosty chains the fallow and the flood,
In God the earth rejoiceth still, and owns his Maker good.

The birds that wake the morning, and those that love the shade;
The winds that sweep the mountain, or lull the drowsy glade;
The sun that from his amber bower rejoiceth on his way,
The moon, and stars, their Maker's name in silent pomp display.

Shall man the lord of nature, expectant of the sky,—
Shall man alone unthankful, his little praise deny?
No,-let the year forsake his course, the seasons cease to be,
Thee, Master, must we always love; and, Saviour, honour Thee.

The flowers of Spring may wither,-the hope of Summer fade,-
The Autumn droop in Winter,-the birds forsake the shade,-
The wind be lulled,-the sun and moon forget their old decree,-
But we in nature's latest hour, O Lord! will cling to Thee.

HOSANNAH.

HOSANNAH to the Living Lord!
Hosannah to th' Incarnate Word!
To Christ, Creator, Saviour, King,
Let heaven, let earth, hosannah sing.

Hosannah, Lord! thine angels cry;
Hosannah, Lord! thy saints reply:
Above, beneath us, all around,
The dead and living swell the sound.

O Saviour! with protecting care,
Return to this, thy house of prayer;
Assembled in thy sacred name,
Here we thy parting promise claim.

But chief in every cleansed breast,
Eternal! bid thy spirit rest;
And make our secret soul to be
A temple pure, and worthy Thee.

So in the last and dreadful day, When earth and heaven shall melt away, Thy flock, redeemed from sinful stain, Shall swell the sound of praise again.

THE FOLLOWERS OF CHRIST.

THE Son of God goes forth to war,
A kingly crown to gain:
His blood-red banner streams afar :

Who follows in his train?

Who best can drink his cup of woe,
Triumphant over pain,

Who patient bears his cross below,
He follows in his train.

The martyr first, whose eagle eye
Could pierce beyond the grave;
Who saw his Maker in the sky,
And called on Him to save.

Like Him, with pardon on his tongue
In midst of mortal pain,

He prayed for them that did the wrong.
Who follows in his train?

A glorious band, the chosen few,

On whom the Spirit came;

Twelve valiant saints, their hope they knew, And mocked the cross and flame.

They met the tyrant's brandished steel,
The lion's gory mane;

They bowed their necks the death to feel.
Who follows in their train?

A noble army-men and boys,

The matron and the maidAround the Saviour's throne rejoice, In robes of light arrayed.

They climb the steep ascent of heaven,
Through peril, toil, and pain!

O God! to us may grace be given
To follow in their train!