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“OH, LET ME RING THE BELL."

3

The missionary kindly look'd

Upon that upturn’d face,
Where hope, and fear, and wistfulness

United, left their trace.

And gladly did he grant the boon;

The boy had pleaded well,
And to the eager child he said,

“Yes, you shall ring the bell!" .
Oh, what a proud and happy heart

He carried to his home,
And how impatiently he long'd

For the Sabbath-day to come!
He
rang

the bell: he went to school,
The Bible learn'd to read,
And in his youthful heart was sown

The Gospel's precious seed.
And now, to other heathen lands

He's gone, of Christ to tell ;
And yet his first young

mission was
To ring the Sabbath bell.

Can two lines teach a lesson from above ?
Yes ! one can speak a volume—“God is love."

LEGH RICHMOND.

THE CHILD AND THE ANGELS.

THE Sabbath's sun was setting low,

Amidst the clouds at even ; “ Our Father,” breathed a voice below

“ Our Father, who art in heaven.”

Beyond the earth, beyond the clouds,

Those infant words were given ; “Our Father," angels sang aloud

Father, who art in heaven.”

“ Thy kingdom come,” still from the ground, That child-like voice did

pray ; “Thy kingdom come,” God's hosts resound,

Far up the starry way.

“Thy will be done,” with little tongue,

That lisping love implores; “Thy will be done,” the angelic throng

Sing from the heavenly shores.

“For ever," still those lips repeat

Their closing evening prayer; “For ever," floats in music sweet, High midst the angels there.

C. SWAIN.

THE HOUR OF PRAYER. CHILD, amidst the flowers at play, While the red light fades away ; Mother, with thine earnest eye, Ever following silently; Father, by the breeze of eve Called thy harvest-work to leavePray : ere yet the dark hours be, Lift the heart and bend the knee. Traveller, in the stranger's land, Far from thine own household band; Mourner, haunted by the tone Of a voice from this world gone ; Captive, in whose narrow cell Sunshine hath not leave to dwell; Sailor, on the darkening seaLift the heart and bend the knee. Warrior that, from battle won, Breathest now at set of sun; Woman, o'er the lowly slain Weeping on his burial-plain ; Ye that triumph, ye that sigh, Kindred by one holy tie, Heaven's first star alike

ye seeLift the heart and bend the knee.

HEMANS.

* DWELL IN LOVE.”

“ LITTLE children, dwell in love !"

Speaketh one whose spirit's eye

Brightest glories could descry
Of the better world above.
All who God would truly know,

All who would His favour gain,

And a place in heaven obtain, Signs of love must ever show. “ Little children, dwell in love !"

Thinking ever who did come

From his Father's heavenly home, That He might our sins remove; And might let us clearly see

In His life and in His dying,

Lowly, pure, and self-denying, What the child of God must be. “ Little children, dwell in love!"

Seeking ever to fulfil

All your Father's holy will: : This shall truest wisdom

prove : This shall bless your worldly way,

Lowly though it be and poor;

Making death itself the door To the realms of endless day.

L. T. GOD IS GOOD.

God is good! Each perfumed flower,

The smiling fields, the dark-green wood, The insect, fluttering for an hour,

All things proclaim that God is good. I hear it in the rushing wind;

The hills that have for ages stood, And clouds, with gold and silver lined,

Are still repeating, God is good. Each little rill, that many a year,

Has the same verdant path pursued, And every

bird, in accents clear, Join in the song that God is good. The restless main, with haughty roar,

Calms each wild wave and billow rude, Retreats submissive from the shore,

And swells the chorus, God is good. The countless hosts of burning stars

Sing out His praise with light renew'd; The rising sun each day declares,

In rays of glory, God is good. The moon, that walks in brightness, says,

Lo! God is good !-and man, endued With power to speak his Maker's praise,

Should still repeat that God is good.

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