WE HAVE NO HOME BUT HEAVEN.

E have no home but heaven;

WE

A pilgrim's garb we wear;
Our path is marked by changes,
And strewed with many a care;
Surrounded with temptations;
By various ills oppressed;
Each passing day proclaims aloud
That this is not our rest.

We have no home but heaven ;-
Then wherefore seek one here?
Why murmur at privation,

Or grieve when foes appear?

It is but for a season

That we as strangers roam,
And travellers must not expect
The comforts of a home.

We have no home but heaven;
We want no home beside;
O God, our Friend and Father,
Our footsteps thither guide;
Unfold to us its glory,

Prepare us to employ

Our soul, our life, our strength, our all,

In that blest world of joy.

We have no home but heaven ;—
How cheering is the thought!
How bright the expectations
Which God's own word has taught;
With eager hearts we hasten
The promised bliss to share;
We have no home but heaven;-
O, when shall we be there?

NOT

NOT NOW, MY CHILD.

Dublin Tract Repository.

OT now, my child-a little more rough tossing,
A little longer on the billow's foam,

A few more journeyings in the desert darkness,
And then the sunshine of thy Father's home!

Not now, for I have wanderers in the distance,

And thou must call them in with patient love; Not now, for I have sheep upon the mountains, And thou must follow them where'er they rove.

Not now, for I have loved ones sad and weary;

Wilt thou not cheer them with a kindly smile? Sick ones who need thee in their lonely sorrow;

Wilt thou not tend them yet a little while?

Not now, for wounded hearts are sorely bleeding,

And thou must teach those widowed hearts to sing;

Not now, for orphan tears are thickly falling;

They must be gathered 'neath some sheltering wing.

Not now, for many a hungry one is pining;
Thy willing hand must be outstretched and free;
Thy Father hears the mighty cry of anguish,
And gives His answering messages to thee.

Not now, for dungeon walls look stern and gloomy, And prisoners' sighs sound strangely on the breezeMan's prisoners, but thy Saviour's noble freemen-Hast thou no ministry of love for these?

Not now, for hell's eternal gulf is yawning,
And souls are perishing in helpless sin;
Jerusalem's bright gates are standing open-
Go to the banished ones and fetch them in!

Go with the name of Jesus to the dying,
And speak that Name in all its living power;
Why should thy faltering heart grow chill and weary?
Canst thou not watch with Me one little hour?

One little hour! and then the glorious crowning;
The golden harp-strings and the victor's palm;
One little hour! and then the Hallelujah!

Eternity's long, deep thanksgiving psalm!

A LITTLE WHILE TO TOIL ALONG.

From the Banner of the Covenant.

A

LITTLE while to toil along
This weary winding way,

And we shall join the ransomed throng,
And we shall sing love's choral song,
In yonder land of day.

A little while, for doubt and gloom,
And feeble trust in God,

And faith shall spread her eagle plume,
The soul her palm and crown assume,
Forever with the Lord.

A little while to pour our love,
On fading forms of clay,

Το weep with tears of bitter grief,
With anguish that hath no relief,
And death shall pass away.

A little while to scatter smiles,
Like sunshine on our way,
With willing heart and kindly hand,
To help each trembling outcast band,
To hope, to watch and pray.

A little while to do the work
Our Master's hand hath given,
Fast fleet away the hours of grace,
Night falls upon our dwelling place,
Short space to work for heaven.

A little while to face the storm,
And breast the angry billow,

And Christ shall whisper, "Peace, be still,"
And ransomed by our Lord's sweet will,
His breast shall be our pillow.

A little while! Take heed, my soul,
These words of love and warning:
That ere thou reach the appointed goal,
Thou go to Christ, and be made whole,
And enter heaven's bright morning.

WHY SHOULD I LINGER HERE.

H

J. BIRCH.

AIL! happy day,

When I shall soar away, And leave all earthly care behind, Too grov'lling for the mind;

When with untiring gaze,

My eye shall rest in sweet delight,
On that high throne divinely bright,
Where uncreated glories blaze!