REST WEARY SOUL, THE PENALTY IS

BORNE.

ANONYMOUS,

EST, weary soul,

RE

The penalty is borne, the ransom paid,
For all thy sins full satisfaction made;

Strive not thyself to do what Christ has done;
Take the free gift, and make the joys thine own;
No more by pangs of guilt and fear to sin distressed,
Rest, sweetly rest.

Rest, weary heart,

From all thy silent griefs and secret pain,
Thy profitless regrets and longings vain ;
Wisdom and love have ordered all the past;
All shall be light and blessedness at last;
Cast off the cares that have so long oppressed,-
Rest, sweetly rest.

Rest, weary head;

Lie down to slumber in the peaceful tomb;
Light from above has broken through its gloom;
Here, in the place where once thy Saviour lay,
Where He shall wake thee on a future day,-
Like a tired child upon its mother's breast,

Rest, sweetly rest.

Rest, spirit free,

In the green pasture of the heavenly shore,
Where sin and sorrow can approach no more;
With all the flock by the Good Shepherd fed,
Beside the streams of life eternal led,
Forever with thy God and Saviour blest,
Rest, sweetly rest.

THE GOLDEN STREET.

WILLIAM O. STODDARD.

HE toil is very long and I am tired:

THE

Oh, Father, I am weary of the way! Give me that rest I have so long desired; Bring me that Sabbath's cool refreshing day, And let the fever of my world-worn feet Press the cool smoothness of the golden street.

Tired-very tired! And I at times have seen,

When the far pearly gates were open thrown For those who walked no more with me, the green Sweet foliage of the trees that there alone At last wave over those whose world-worn feet Press the cool smoothness of the golden street.

When the gates open and before they closeSad hours but holy-I have watched the tide Whose living crystal there forever flows

Before the throne, and sadly have I sighed To think how long until my world-worn feet Press the cool smoothness of the golden street.

They shall not wander from that blessed way;
Nor heat, nor cold, nor weariness, nor sin,
Nor any clouds in that eternal day,

Trouble them more who once have entered in;
But all is rest to them whose world-worn feet
Press the cool smoothness of the golden street.
Thus the gates close and I behold no more,
Though as I walk, they open oftener now
For those who leave me and go on before;
And I am lonely also while I bow

And think of those dear souls whose world-worn feet
Press the cool smoothness of the golden street.

Tired-very tired!-but I will patient be,
Nor will I murmur at the weary way:

I too shall walk beside the crystal sea,

And pluck the ripe fruit all that God-lit day,
When Thou, O Lord, shall let my feet
Press the cool smoothness of the golden street.

A LITTLE WHILE THE VIGIL KEEPING.

JANE CREWDSON.

FOR the peace which floweth as a river,

Making life's desert places bloom and smile! O for the faith to grasp heaven's bright "forever" Amid the shadows of earth's "little while!"

A little while for patient vigil-keeping,
To face the stern, to battle with the strong;
A little while to sow the seed with weeping,
Then bind the sheaves and sing the harvest song.

A little while to wear the weeds of sadness,
To pace with weary steps through noisy ways;
Then to pour forth the fragrant oil of gladness,
And clasp the girdle round the robe of praise.

A little while midst shadow and delusion
To strive by faith love's mysteries to spell :
Then read each dark enigma's bright solution,
Then hail sight's verdict-" He doth all things well."

A little while the earthen pitcher taking,
To wayside brooks from far off fountains fed;
Then the cool lip its thirst forever slaking
Beside the fulness of the fountain-head.

A little while to keep the oil from failing,
A little while faith's flickering lamp to trim;
And then, the Bridegroom's coming footsteps hailing,
To haste to meet him, with the bridal-hymn.

And he who is himself the Gift and Giver—
The future glory and the present smile,
With the bright promise of the glad forever
Will light the shadows of the "little while."

ASPIRATIONS FOR HEAVEN.

They desire a better country, that is a heavenly.-Heb. 11: 16.

We rejoice in hope of the glory of God.-Rom. 5:a.

Nevertheless we, according to his promise, look for new heavens and a new earth, wherein dwelleth righteousness.-2 Peter 3: 13.

Oh that I had wings like a dove! for then would I fly away and be at rest.Psa. 55; 6.