EXTRACT FROM "SEASONS OF PRAYER."

THERE are smiles and tears in the mother's eyes,

For her new-born infant beside her lies.

O, hour of bliss! when the heart o'erflows
With rapture a mother only knows:

Let it gush forth in words of fervent prayer;
Let it swell up to heaven for her precious care.

INNOCENT CHILD AND SNOW-WHITE
FLOWER.

INNOCENT child and snow-white flower!
Well are ye paired in your opening hour.
Thus should the pure and the lovely meet,
Stainless with stainless, and sweet with sweet.
White as those leaves, just blown apart,
Are the folds of thy own young heart;
Guilty passion and cankering care

Never have left their traces there.

Artless one! though thou gazest now,

O'er the white blossom with earnest brow,
Soon will it tire thy childish eye,

Fair as it is, thou wilt throw it by.

Throw it aside in thy weary hour,

Throw to the ground the fair white flower,

Yet, as thy tender years depart,

Keep that white and innocent heart.

THE EARLY DEAD.

WEEP not for those whom the veil of the tomb,

In life's happy morning, hath hid from our eyes, Ere sin threw a blight o'er the spirit's young bloom,

Or earth had profaned what was meant for the

skies.

Death chilled the fair fountain, ere sorrow had stained it;

"T was frozen in all the pure light of its course, And but sleeps till the sunshine of Heaven has unchained it,

To water that Eden where first was its source.

Weep not for those, in their spring-time they flew

To that land where the wings of the soul are un

furled;

And now, like the stars beyond evening's cold dew, Look radiantly down on the tears of this world.

THE DEATH OF A CHILD.

АH! not for thee was woven
That wreath of joy and woe,
That crown of thorns and flowers
Which all must wear below.

We bend in sadness o'er thee,

Yet feel that thou art blest,
Loved one! so early summoned
To enter into rest.

E'en now thy bright young spirit
From earthly life is free;

Now hast thou met that Saviour,

Who smiled on such as thee.

E'en now art thou rejoicing,
Unsullied as thou art,

In the blest vision promised
Unto the pure in heart.

Thou Father of our spirits,
We can but look to thee!
Though chastened, not forsaken
Shall we thy children be.
We take the cup of sorrow
As did thy blessed Son;
Teach us to say with Jesus,
"Thy will, not ours, be done."

MY BOY.

"There is even a happiness

That makes the heart afraid."

HOOD.

ONE more new claimant for

. Human fraternity,

Swelling the flood that sweeps

On to eternity.

I who have filled the cup

Tremble to think of it; For be it what it may,

I must yet drink of it.

Room for him into

Ranks of humanity;

Give him a place in your

Kingdom of vanity!

Welcome the stranger
With kindly affection;

Hopefully, trustfully,
Not with dejection.

See, in his waywardness,

How his fist doubles;

Thus pugilistical,

Daring life's troubles.

Strange that the neophyte

Enters existence

In such an attitude,

Feigning resistance.