HE WILL REST IN HIS LOVE.

ZEPHANIAH.

The Lord thy God in the midst of thee is mighty,
He will save;

He will rejoice over thee with joy;
He will rest in his love;

He will joy over thee with singing.

LOVE ENTERTAINING THE PRODIGAL.

GEORGE HERBERT.

Love bade me welcome; yet my soul drew back,
Guilty of dust and sin;

But quick-eyed Love, observing me grow slack,
From my first entrance in,

Drew nearer to me, sweetly questioning
If I lacked any thing.

"A guest," I answered, "worthy to be here"Love said "You shall be he."

"I the unkind, ungrateful? Ah! my dear, I can not look on thee."

Love took my hand; and, smiling did reply, "Who made the eyes, but I ?"

"Truth, Love, but I have marred them : let my shame Go where it doth deserve.'

"And know you not," says Love, "who bore the blame?" "My dear then I will serve."

"You must sit down." savs Love," and taste my meat,' So I did sit and eat.

URIEL.

FROM THE LONDON LEADER

The Seraph Uriel, as the records tell

That angels write, from his allegiance fell ;
And He who rules the worlds beyond the sun-
He in whom love and wisdom are made one-
Did hurl him from his royalty of light,
To dwell amid the souls that wail in night.
Then Uriel felt his beauty fade away,

And a great grief lay on him day by day;
But, as his splendor withered for his sin,
Stronger and brighter grew the love within;
And so in silence, in his fiery jail,
He stood, rejoiced that love could yet prevail.

One day the ancient Gods that howl below
Accosted Uriel :-"Uriel, this great wo
Will never pass; the stars will seek the sun,
The universe shall end as it begun ;

But through the endless circle of the years
That angels know, shall neither hopes nor fears
Visit the dwellers in this world of fire;
Therefore, when hate and anguish shall inspire,
Ease your full heart with curses deep as ours;
Your love will never win you Eden's bowers."

Then Uriel answered: "He who made the night,—
Crown'd it with stars and with the pure delight
Of the clear moon: He who made all things frail
Decrees that sov'reign beauty shall prevail.
There is no sorrow, friends, but it has still
Some soul of sweetness in it; there's no ill

But comes from Him who made it, and is good

As fruit in season, leaf in budding wood.

But if in this drear world all hope were vain-
If penance were eternal—if such pain
He could inflict and I endure-my will
Would be to love, thro' all this cruel ill."

He ended; and the ancient Gods below Ceased howling, when they saw the sweet, calm glow That wander'd over that good angel's face, Making a moonlight round them, till the grace That was in his brave bearing and mild speech Melted the hatred from the hearts of each; And they stood up, and thro' the streets of hell The sound of countless voices rose and fell, Praising the silent soul that dwells above,

Singing, "We love Thee, Lord, for Thou art Love."

Then the dark dungeon burst its grates and bars,
And light came glowing in from suns and stars,
Lapsing down dreadful rifts; the shapes below
Saw fragments of blue sky above them glow
Like windows through the rents; they felt the air
Cooling their branded foreheads; everywhere
They saw the faces of young angels shine,
And golden fingers point to thrones divine;
While a low whisper murmured like the breeze
That comes and goes on tops of mulberry trees;
And thus it said, "O, loving angels, rise,
Borne by strong love through the unfolding skies.
There is no sin, no sorrow, and no hell,

But they must cease, where hearts love long and well,
Where lips praise God in anguish and confess
There's love in pain-that even wrong can bless

The whisper ceased; and every soul, forgiven By Love for Love's sweet sake, went up to heaven. Each stood before his throne-fair, glad and calm; And God sat in the midst, and heard the psalm Which joyful angels raised in chorus bland ; And Uriel sat like God, at God's right hand.

DEATH OF ROUSSEAU.

It is said, that a few hours previous to the death of ROUSSEAU, he requested one of his servants to carry him to a window, that he might behold for the last time the sun set, amidst the delightful scenery of France.

[N. Y. Constellation.

Gaze on, thou unbelieving one,
Take thy last lingering glance,
Of yon bright glorious setting-sun;
"Twill rise again on France,

"Twill crimson oft her tow'r and stream,
It even on thy tomb may beam;
But never o'er that marble brow,
Again its lustre will it throw.

No, infidel—thine hour is come,

Ere yet another day,

Hath issued from night's shadowy gloom,

A lifeless wreck thou 'lt lay;

And that high gifted soul of thine,
Born like a sun, 'mid stars to shine,
Whose powers vast, and genius high,
Mind's loftiest own'd,-that too must die!

'Tis false-and wrong thy creed hath said!
No! ne'er to man was given,

A soul to moulder with the dead:
It's rightful home is heaven!

Thine was created there to live,

When earth her myriads back shall give!
But now-alas! thy days are gone,
And heaven by thee, can ne'er be won!

In gorgeous tomb thy dust may lie,
Men long thy loss may mourn;
And Fame will bear thy memory,
To ages yet unborn.

But who, to be like thee, would crave
A deathless name?-beyond the grave
Thou durst not look; there all is night—
Not even hope, thy path can light!

THE MESSIAH.

ANONYMOUS.

Not in the earthquake's rending force,
Not in the blasting fire;

Not in the strong wind's rushing course,
Came He, their soul's desire!
Forerunners of his coming these

Proclaiming over earth and seas,

As God, his might and ire;

He

The still small voice-the hovering dove Proved him Messiah-Spoke him “Love !”

LOVE OF THE SON OF GOD.

MILTON.

Regardless of the bliss wherein he sat

Second to God, offered himself to die

For man's offence. O unexampled love!

Love no where to be found less than divine!

Hail, Son of God, Savior of men! Thy name Shall be the copious matter of my song