THIRST of applause calls public judgment in
To poise our own, to keep an even scale,
And give endangered virtue fairer play.

If no basis bear my rising name But the fallen ruins of another's fame;

YOUNG

Then teach me, Heaven! to scorn the guilty bays;
Drive from my breast that wretched lust of praise:
Unblemished let me live, or die unknown;
O, grant me honest fame, or grant me none.

THE man we celebrate must find a tomb,
And we that worship him, ignoble graves.
Nothing is proof against the general curse
Of vanity, that seizes all below.

POPE

COWPER

WHY then doth flesh, a bubble-glass of breath,
Hunt after honour and advancement vain,

And rear a trophy for devouring death,
With so great labour and long-lasting pain,
As if his days for ever should remain?
Sith all that in this world is great or gay,
Doth, as a vapour, vanish and decay.

SPENSER

FAME, if not double-faced, is double-mouthed,
And with contrary blast proclaims most deeds:
On both his wings, one black, the other white,
Bears greatest names in his wild airy flight.

MILTON.

REST-SLEEP.

THERE remaineth therefore a rest to the people of God. HEBREWS, iv, 9.

In returning and rest shall ye be saved; in quietness and confidence shall be your strength. ISAIAH, XXX, 15.

Come unto me all ye that labour, and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. MATTHEW, Xi, 28.

He giveth His beloved sleep. PSALM CXXVii, 2.

I will both lay me down in peace and sleep, for Thou, Lord, only makest me dwell In safety. PSALM iv, 8.

Or all the thoughts of God that are
Borne inward unto souls afar,

Along the Psalmist's music deep;
Now tell me if that any is,

For gift or grace, surpassing this-
"He giveth His beloved sleep."

MISS BARRETT.

'Tis loving and serving the Greatest and Best,
'Tis onward, unswerving, and this is true rest.

GOOD night!

Slumber till the morning light!
Slumber till the dawn of day
Brings its troubles with its ray!
Sleep without or fear or fright!
Our Father wakes! Good night!

Good night!

ANONYMOUS.

KORNER.

MAKE then, while yet ye may, your God your friend,

And learn, with equal ease, to live or die.

WILLIAM MASON.

How blessed was that sleep
The sinless Saviour knew!
In vain the storm-winds blew,
Till He awoke to others' woes,

And hushed the billows to repose.

How beautiful is sleep!

The sleep that Christians know:.
Ye mourners! cease your woe,
While soft upon his Saviour's breast,
The Righteous sinks to endless rest.

AND of my bed each sundry part

In shadows doth resemble

MRS. M'CARTEL.

The sundry shapes of death, whose dart

Shall make my flesh to tremble:

My bed itself is like the grave,

My sheets the winding-sheet,

My clothes, the mould which I must have

To cover me most meet.

NoT in this weary world of ours

Can perfect rest be found;

GEORGE GASCOIGNE.

Thorns mingle with its fairest flowers

Even on cultured ground;

Earth's pilgrim still his loins must gird

To seek a lot more blest;

And this must be his onward word

"In Heaven alone is rest."

BERNARD BARTON.

RESURRECTION.

I AM the resurrection and the life: he that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live; and whosoever liveth and believeth in me, shall never die. JoHN, xi, 25, 26.

He hath appointed a day in which He will judge the world in righteousness, by that Man whom He hath ordained; whereof He hath given assurance unto all men, in that He hath raised Him from the dead. Acts, xvii, 31.

New is Christ risen from the dead, and become the first-fruits of them that slept. I. CORINTHIANS, XV, 20.

So also is the resurrection of the dead. It is sown in corruption, it is raised in incorruption:

It is sown in dishonour; it is raised in glory: it is sown in weakness; it is raised in power:

It is sown a natural body; it is raised a spiritual body. I. CORINTHIANS, XV, 42-44. The hour is coming in the which all that are in the graves shall hear His voice, and shall come forth; they that have done good unto the resurrection of life, and they that have done evil unto the resurrection of damnation. JoHN, V, 28, 29.

THESE ashes too, the little dust
Our Father's care shall keep,
Till the last angel rise and break
The long and dreary sleep.
Then Love's soft dew on every eye
Shall shed its mildest rays;

And the long-silent dust shall burst
With shouts of endless praise.

KIRKE WHITE.

So, when the tomb's dull silence finds an end,
The blessed dead to endless youth shall rise;
And hear th' archangel's thrilling summons blend
Its tone with anthems from the upper skies.

WILLIS G. CLARK.

AN angel's arm can't snatch me from the grave!
Legions of angels can't confine me there.

YOUNG

THIS dust shall live again, I said,

Though 'tis but pauper flesh;

These bleaching bones the word of God

Shall clothe with life afresh.

THOMAS MCKELLAR.

YET life again shall heave the mouldering breast,
And a new impulse stir the depths below.

A deathless spring shall o'er these ashes bloom,
And win th' immortal tenant from the tomb.

FORGOTTEN generations live again,

A. ALEXANDER.

Assume the bodily shapes they owned of old,
Beyond the flood:- the righteous of their times
Embrace and weep, they weep the tears of joy.
The sainted mother wakes, and in her lap
Clasps her dear babe, the partner of her grave,
And heritor, with her, of Heaven,- a flower
Washed by the blood of Jesus from the stain
Of native guilt, even in its early bud.

KIRKE WHITE.

THE trumpet! the trumpet! the dead have all heard: Lo, the depths of the stone-covered chancel are stirr’d: From the sea, from the land, from the South and the North,

The vast generations of man are come forth.

BUT has not Jesus passed the tomb,

To break its bars away ?

H. H. MILMAN.

And, darting through its fearful gloom

The beams of endless day,

Does He not, from the other side,
Bid none to fear, since He has died?

HANNAH F. GOULD.