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HIS THRONE AND TEMPLE.

W. A. MUнlenberg.

INCE o'er thy footstool here below
Such radiant gems are strewn,
Oh, what magnificence must glow,
My God, about Thy throne!

So brilliant here those drops of light—
Where the full ocean rolls, how bright!

If night's blue curtain of the sky,
With thousand stars inwrought,
Hung like a glittering canopy

With royal diamonds fraught,
Be, Lord, Thy temple's outer veil
What splendor at the shrine must dwell!

The dazzling sun, at noontide hour,

Forth from his flaming vase
Flinging o'er earth the golden shower

Till vale and mountain blaze,

But shows, O Lord, one beam of Thine,
What, then, the Day, where Thou dost shine!

Oh, how shall these dim eyes endure

That noon of living rays;

Or how my spirit, so impure,
Upon thy glory gaze?

Anoint, O Lord, anoint my sight,

And robe me for that world of light!

HEAVEN IN SONG.

TO BE THERE!

ELIZABETH MILLS

E speak of the realms of the blest,

WE

Of that country so bright and so fair

And oft are its glories confessed,

But what must it be to be There!

We speak of its pathways of gold,
Of its walks decked with jewels so rare,
Of its wonders and pleasures untold-
But what must it be to be There!

We speak of its freedom from sin,
From sorrow, temptation, and care,
From trials without and within—

But what must it be to be There!

We speak of its service of love,

Of the robes which the glorified wear, Of the Church of the First-born aboveBut what must it be to be There!

Do Thou, Lord, midst sorrow and woe
Still for Heaven our spirits prepare;

And shortly we also shall know,

And feel what it is to be There!

THE OTHER WORLD.

Mrs. H. B. STOWE.

T lies around us like a cloud,

IT

A world we do not see;

Yet the sweet closing of an eye
May bring us There to be!

Its gentle breezes fan our cheek;
Amid our worldly cares
Its gentle voices whisper love,

And mingle with our prayers.

Sweet hearts around us throb and beat, Sweet helping hands are stirred,

And palpitates the veil between

With breathings almost heard ;

The silence-awful, sweet, and calm-
They have no power to break;
For mortal words are not for them
To utter or partake.

So thin, so soft, so sweet they glide,
So near to press they seem,-
As fain to lull us to our rest,
And melt into our dream.

And in the hush of rest they bring,
'Tis easy now to see

How lovely and how sweet a pass
The hour of death may be.

To close the eye, and close the ear,
Wrapped in a trance of bliss,
And gently dream, in loving arms
To swoon to That-from this.

Scarce knowing if we wake or sleep, Scarce asking where we are,—

To feel all evil sink away,

All sorrow and all care.

Sweet souls around us! watch us still, Press nearer to our side,

Into our thoughts-into our prayers With gentle helpings glide.

Let Death between us be as naught― A dried and vanished stream;

Our joy, be the reality—

Our suffering-life, the dream.

NATURE OF HEAVEN.

HEAVEN NEAR.

Mrs. MARY J. ROBINSON.

OH, Heaven is nearer than mortals think,

When they look with a trembling dread

At the misty future, that stretches on
From the silent home of the dead.

'Tis no lone isle in a boundless main,

No brilliant, but distant shore,

Where the lovely ones who are called away
Must go, to return no more.

No, Heaven is near us ;-the mighty veil
Of mortality blinds the eye,

That we see not always the angel bands
On the shores of Eternity.

Yet oft, in the hours of holy thought,
To the thirsting soul is given

That power to pierce through the mist of sense,

To the beauteous scenes of Heaven.

Then very near seem its pearly gates,
And sweetly its harpings fall;

Till the soul is restless to soar away,
And longs for the angels' call.

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