THE MUSIC OF HEAVEN IS ATTUNED.

F. E. Cox.

HE music of Heaven is attuned to a measure

THE

Our Spirit's deep thirst ever longs for in vain ; For the music of earth, though it thrills us with

pleasure,

Gives pleasure not wholly unmingled with pain.

And though for a moment the ear may be captured By notes that from Paradise seem to have birth, By sounds to which Angels might listen enraptured, The dream is dispelled by the voices of earth.

Some weariness, pain, or some passing vexations The half-entranced soul from its bliss will recall; Or the heart is unstrung, and the sweet modulations. On heart-enchained senses untunefully fall.

When resoundeth God's praise in the courts of His Dwelling,

False jarrings of earth will too often begin;

And the higher and clearer the anthem is swelling,
The more are we conscious of discord within,

But it will not be thus when to Heavenly regions,
Released from its thraldom, our Spirit takes wing,
And uniting in concert with glorified legions,

Shall learn that "new Song" which none other can

THE

THE SONG IS EVER NEW.

ROBERT POLLOK.

HE song of Heaven is ever new, for daily thus, And nightly new discoveries are made Of God's unbounded wisdom, power and love Which give the understanding larger room, And swell the hymn with ever-growing praise.

N

SUCH CONCORD IS IN HEAVEN.

JOHN MILTON.

O sooner had the Almighty ceased, but all
The multitude of angels, with a shout

Loud as from numbers without number, sweet
As from blest voices, uttering joy, Heaven rung
With jubilee, and loud Hosannas fill'd

The eternal regions: lowly reverent

Towards either throne they bow, and to the ground
With solemn adoration down they cast
Their crowns inwove with amarant and gold;
Immortal Amarant, a flower which once

In Paradise, fast by the tree of life,

Began to bloom; but soon for man's offence

To Heaven remov'd where first it grew, there grows, And flowers aloft, shading the fount of life,

And where the river of bliss through midst of Heaven

Rolls o'er Elysian flowers her amber stream:
With these that never fade the spirits elect

Bind their resplendent locks inwreath'd with beams.
Now in loose garlands thick thrown off, the bright
Pavement, that like a sea of jasper shone,
Impurpled with celestial roses smil'd.

Then crowned again, their golden harps they took,
Harps ever tuned, that glittering by their side
Like quivers hung, and with preamble sweet
Of charming symphony they introduce.
Their sacred song, and waken raptures high;
No voice exempt, no voice but well could join
Melodious part, such concord is in Heaven.

THE EVERLASTING PRAISE.

OH

ANNE STEele.

H for a sweet, inspiring ray,
To animate our feeble strains,

From the bright realms of endless day,
The blissful realms where Jesus reigns!

There, low before His glorious throne,
Adoring saints and angels fall,
And, with delightful worship, own

His smile their bliss, their heaven, their all.

Immortal glories crown His head,

While tuneful hallelujahs rise,

And love and joy and triumph spread
Through all th' assemblies of the skies.

He smiles, and seraphs tune their songs
To boundless rapture while they gaze:
Ten thousand thousand joyful tongues
Resound His everlasting praise.

There all the favorites of the Lamb
Shall join at last the heavenly choir:
Oh, may the joy-inspiring theme

Awake our faith and warm desire!

ALLELUIA TO THE LAMB.

A

From the Latin.

LLELUIA! sweetest music, voice of everlasting joy!

Alleluia is the language which the heavenly hosts

employ,

As they ever sing to God,

In that pure and blest abode.

Alleluia! joyful mother, true Jerusalem above! Alleluia is the music which thy happy children love: Exiles, tears our songs must steep;

Oft by Babel's streams we weep.

Alleluia cannot ever be our joyous psalm below; Alleluia-sin will cross it often here with tones of woe; Many a mournful hour we know

When our tears for sin must flow.

Therefore, 'mid our tears still praising, grant us, blessed

Trinity,

Thy true paschal feast hereafter in the heavenly home

to see,

Where our song shall ever be,
Alleluia unto Thee!

ANGEL CHOIRS ON HIGH ARE SINGING.

"Astant angelorum chori,
Laudes cantant Creatori,

Regem cernunt in decore,

Amant corde, laudant ore."

From the Latin of the celebrated Thomas à Kempis, Translated by ERASTUS

A

C. BENEDICT.

NGEL choirs on high are singing,

To the Lord their praises bringing,
Yielding Him in royal beauty
Heart and voice, in love and duty;
Waving wings the throne surrounding,
Timbrels, harps, and bells are sounding.
See their heavenly vestments glisten;
To their heavenly music listen:
Hear them, by the Godhead staying,
Holy, holy, holy, saying.

None that grieveth or complaineth
In that heavenly land remaineth:
Every voice, in concord joining,
Holy praise to God combining.
Holy love their minds disposeth;
Heavenly light to all discloseth