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“THE DESIRED HAVEN.”
(Psalm cvii. 30.)
The ripples gently glide,
No angry billows foam, While I on life's serenest tide,
Am wafted home.
The silver moonbeams play
O'er ocean's sleeping breast, Which glitters as the orb of day,
Sinks in the west.
Anon the storm winds beat,
The heaving surges roar,
Shall be no more.
On! 'mid the storm winds high, Onward, still on, my course I urge,
For Christ is nigh. I would not linger here,
To watch the moon's soft light, Nor heed the ripples sparkling clear,
At sunset bright.
Amid the tempest's roar,
The blissful shore.
Where heavenly breezes blow, And leave my every weight of care,
My every woe.
C. B. C.
“OUR FATHERS, WHERE ARE THEY?"
Where are the ones so loved in other years,
Our Fathers, where are they?
Where shall we seek them? Hill and stately wood
Where then, oh, where are they?
Shall we look for them, then, in lovelier lands
Oh! tell us, where are they?
Come, let us go to the low grassy mound,
There, there our Fathers lie.
But hark, what tones are those whose thankful song.
• Our Fathers, these are they?"
Yes ; dust returned to dust, but the freed soul
S. J. EDMESTON. THE
THE RIVER MEDWAY.
(With a view of Teston Bridge.) The gentle scenery of the Medway is perhaps not unknown to some of our readers. Our engraving represents a very pleasing specimen of its general character, taken from the meadows a few miles above Maidstone. The graphic description which follows, copied from a local almanack, is from the pen of Mr. W. H. Bensted, a gentleman not unknown in the literary world, and especially in those departments of it which relate to geology.
“ By following the first trickling stream of our river Medway, we are led through a country abounding in hills, all rising with undulating sides, looking like a succession of mighty billows petrified by the fiat of a Great Power which arrested their rolling and upheaved bosoms, and converted them into monuments of the tremendous force that lifted them from the depths of the earth. And thus we may see, from ruin and desolation, the foundations of verdant fields, and lovely vales were formed. The hill of Crowboro', in Sussex, which is 800 feet above the level of the sea, is the apex of this upheaved sand stone, and the force which shattered its base into the many hills