The gush of many streams comes o'er the foul,
The harmonies of nature past me roll,-

-

But the deaf hear them not!

It is a Sabbath morn; and many feet
Haften, thro' funny paths, their God to meet
In His own temple-and on bended knee
Tell Him their wants, and for His pardon pray;
To hear of all His love-to hear and feel,

And fend their hearts up with the anthem's fwell,—
But the dumb cannot fing!

Amid a bufy world they are alone,

And to no kindred heart can make their moan;
The spirit has no vent. -Oh, who can tell
The paffionate longing, or the struggling fwell,
Of the imprisoned Eagle caged within,
To burst its barriers, and its freedom win!—
But the dumb cannot speak.

But there was One, who in His inmost soul,
Sighed for the mute, and with His touch made whole.
Teach them to know Him! Soon His healing balm
Sheds o'er the struggling foul a holy calm-
No longer defolate, for He is nigh.

Oh! pitying heart, that like thy Lord can figh,
Pray for the deaf and dumb!

A day will come, when on the closed ear
The melodies of Heaven will burst fo clear,
That the mute mourner's bounding heart shall note,
And vibrate to the chords that round him float-

The theme will give the power-before unknown, And the full heart roll out the tide of fong,

Poured by the deaf and dumb.

C. J.

XLIII.

THE SABBATH.

ABBATH hours! they come and go
Like the fummer ftreamlet's flow,
Bringing to the wafte relief,

Beautiful, but oh! too brief;

Sparkling in the golden ray,
Iris-coloured-then away!
Yet fertility is feen

Fresher, where the ftream hath been.

Sabbath hours! ye come between,

Like an iflet's emerald green,
Rifing o'er life's ftormy fea,

Where its wearied ones may flee;

Catching, from its tide-washed ftrand,
Visions of their father-land,

Till they deem the foft winds come,
Breathing melodies from home.

May the Sabbath ever be,
Harbinger of good to me!
Calling up my foul from earth-
Fixing it on things of worth.

Swiftly do its funbeams fly,

O'er this changing wintry sky:
And, in Heaven's fabbatic bowers,
I fhall praise Thee for these hours.

XLIV.

THE SABBATH.

HERE'S mufic in the morning air,
A holy voice and sweet,
For calling to the House of Prayer

The humbleft peafant's feet.

From hill and vale, and diftant moor,

Long as the chime is heard,

Each cottage fends its tenants poor,

For God's enriching Word.

hath trod,

Still where the British power
The crofs of faith afcends;
And like a radiant arch of God,

The light of Scripture bends!
Deep in the foreft wilderness,

The wood-built Church is known; A fheltering wing in man's diftrefs, Spread like the Saviour's own!

The warrior from his armed tent,
The feaman from the tide-
Far as the Sabbath chimes are fent,
In Christian nations wide, -

Thousands and tens of thousands bring
Their forrows to His fhrine,
And tafte the never-failing fpring
Of Jefus' love divine!

If at an earthly chime the tread
Of million, million feet,
Approach where'er the Gofpel's read,
In God's own temple feat;

How bleft the fight, from death's dark fleep,

To fee God's faints arise,
And countless hofts of angels keep

The Sabbath of the Skies!

**

XLV.

HOLY SORROW.

H! Thou, that drieft the mourner's

tear,

How dark this world would be,

If, when deceived and wounded here,
We could not fly to Thee!

The friends, who in our funshine live,
When winter comes, are flown;

And he who has but tears to give
Muft weep those tears alone.

But Thou wilt heal the broken heart,
Which, like the plants that throw
Their fragrance from the wounded part,
Breathes fweetness out of woe.

When joy no longer foothes or cheers,
And even hope, that threw
A moment's sparkle o'er our tears,
Is dimmed and vanished too.

Oh! who could bear life's ftormy doom,
Did not Thy Word of love

Come brightly bearing, through the gloom,

A peace-branch from above?

Then forrow, touched by Thee, grows bright With more than rapture's ray,

As darkness shows us worlds of light

We could not fee by day.

THOMAS MOORE.

XLVI.

HOLY SORROW.

HEN fore afflictions crufh the foul,
And riven is every earthly tie,

The heart must cling to God alone,
He wipes the tear from ev'ry eye.

Ν