Pilgrim and stranger no more shall I roam :
Joyfully, joyfully resting at home.

Friends fondly cherished have passed on before;
Waiting, they watch me approaching the shore;
Singing to cheer me through death's chilling gloom,
"Joyfully, joyfully haste to thy home."
Sounds of sweet melody fall on my ear;
Harps of the blessed, your voices I hear!
Rings with the harmony heaven's high dome—
Joyfully haste to thy home.

LEAD THOU ME ON.

I.

Send kindly light amid the encircling gloom,
And lead me on!

The night is dark, and I am far from home;
Lead Thou me on!

Keep Thou my feet; I do not ask to see
The distant scene; one step's enough for me.

II.

I was not ever thus, nor prayed that Thou
Should'st lead me on!

I loved to choose and see my path; but now
Lead thou me on!

I loved day's dazzling light, and spite of fears,
Pride ruled my will: remember not past years!

III.

So long Thy power hath blessed me, surely still
"Twill lead me on!

Thro' dreary doubt, thro' pain and sorrow, till
The night is gone,

And with the morn these angel faces smile

Which I have loved long since, and lost awhile.

COME UNTO ME.

"Come unto me all ye that labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.”

With tearful eyes I look around,

Life seems a dark and stormy sea;
Yet, midst the gloom, I hear a sound,
A heavenly whisper, "Come to me."

It tells me of a peace and rest-
It tells me where my soul may flee;
Oh! to the weary, faint, oppressed,

How sweet the bidding, "Come to me.'

When nature shudders, loth to part
From all I love, enjoy and see,
When a faint chill steals o'er my heart,
A sweet voice utters, "Come to me."

Come, for all else must fade and die,
Earth is no resting place for thee;
Heavenward direct thy weeping eye,
I am thy portion, “Come to me."

SUBMISSION.

When I can trust my all with God,
In trial's fearful hour,-
Bow all resigned beneath his rod,
And bless his sparing power ;-
A joy springs up amid distress,-
A fountain in the wilderness.

Oh! to be brought to Jesus' feet,
Tho' trials fix me there,
Is still a privilege most sweet;
For he will hear my prayer;

Tho' sighs and tears its language be,
The Lord is nigh to answer me.

Then blessed be the hand that gave,
Still blessed when it takes,
Blessed be he who smites to save,
Who heals the heart he breaks;

Perfect and true are all his ways,
Whom heaven adores and death obeys.

MY NAME.

Oh no! it cannot die with me,
And never more be heard-
Dropped from my heart, as falls the plume
From wing of flying bird.

All the bright memories that it bears
Were not meant for the tomb;
"Twill surely be my angel name,
'Midst heavenly light and bloom.

For when my own sweet mother comes,
With glad and eager feet,

Her child of many prayers and tears
In bliss at length to greet,-
What could she think to call me then,
If not the cherished name

She first found for me in her heart,
When to her arms I came ?

How often, on beloved lips

Its sound has lingered long; How often, deep in loving hearts It echoes like a song.

How could they think of me, in heaven,

As being still the same,

If all the angels knew me there

Under some other name?

And when at first His matchless love
Made my sad heart rejoice,
Mary! my Savior called—and I
Turned to the tender voice.
Think you, another name could be
One half so dear as this?

It has been mine through all my tears,

Mine be it in

my

bliss.

M. E. R.

OUR JEWEL.

God never unto us had given
So dear a gift before;

And when the baby came, our hearts
With happiness ran o'er.

For on our tender lyre of life

The sweetest chord still slept, Till, trembling, o'er the tiny strings Those baby fingers crept.

The golden clasp that binds our hearts, Love's fairy ring so bright,

Was all imperfect until set

With this one gem of light.

But for a little time that chord
Its tender music woke;

The sweet hands faltered wearily,
The tiny string was broke.

And from its setting the bright gem
Dropped down into the dust;
But angels, when we saw them not,
Had plucked it from the rust.

God never in his tenderness

Had left us so before;

And when the baby went, our hearts
O'erfull with grief, ran o'er.

Such shadows brooded where the light
Of those dear eyes had shone;
Such lonesome stillness in the rooms
That baby laugh had known.

God only lent the tiny gem
To light our lives a while;
He'll fill the vacant place again
More brightly with his smile.

M. HAWTHORNE.

TEARS WIPED AWAY.
When sore afflictions crush the soul,
And riven is each earthly tie
The heart must cling to God alone :
He wipes the tear from every eye.

A few short years, and all is o'er;

Your sorrows, pains, will soon pass by; Then lean in faith on God's dear Son, He'll wipe the tear from every eye.

Oh! never be your soul cast down,
Nor let your heart desponding sigh,
Assured that God, whose name is Love,
Will wipe the tear from every eye.

MRS. MACKINBAY.