There falls no pain upon the heart, where sickness

cannot come,

No shrieks of agony are wrung within that blissful

home;

Cool on the fevered spirit falls the soothing music

tone,

And the brow has no more sign of pain, in that blessed world unknown.

No rough winds blow across the waves of that bright glassy sea;

There the timid ones are safe at home, in the dwelling of the free;

Life's fearful journey over, they are resting now, at last,

And the spirits sing a grateful song that the troublous times are past.

Oh, Father, pity us, who weep along the wayside drear,

And bring us also to that land, with the holy and the

dear;

Guide thou us to the home of love, to the blessed land

of peace,

Where our tears forever wiped away-our fears and bondage cease,

Lo!

DIES ILLA, DIES VITAE.

A Hymn of the 12th Century.

O! the day, the day of life, the day of unimagined light,

The day when death itself shall die, and there shall be no more night.

Steadily that day approacheth when the just shall find their rest,

When the wicked cease from troubling, and the patient reign most blest.

See the King desired for ages, by the just expected long;

Long implored, at length He hasteth, cometh with salvation strong.

Oh, how past all utterance happy, sweet and joyful it

will be

When they who, unseen, have loved Him, JESUS face to face shall see.

In that day how good and pleasant, this poor world to have despised;

And how mournful and how bitter, dear that lost world to have prized:

Blessed then earth's patient mourners, who for CHRIST have toiled and died,

Driven by the world's rough pressure in those mansions to abide.

There shall be no sighs nor weeping, not a shade of doubt or fear,

No old age, no want, nor sorrow, nothing sick or lacking there:

There the peace will be unbroken, deep and solemn joy be shed;

Youth in fadeless flower and freshness, and Salvation perfected.

What will be the bliss and rapture none can dream and none can tell,

There to reign among the Angels, in that Heavenly

home to dwell.

To those realms, just Judge, oh call me, deign to open that blest gate,

Thou whom seeking, looking, longing, I with eager hope await.

PARADISE: IN A DREAM.

CHRISTINA G. ROSSETTI.

NCE in a dream I saw the flowers

That bud and bloom in Paradise;

More fair they are than waking eyes
Have seen in all this world of ours.
And faint the perfume-bearing rose,
And faint the lily on its stem,
And faint the perfect violet
Compared with them.

I heard the songs of paradise:
Each bird sat singing in his place;
A tender song so full of grace
It soared like incense to the skies.
Each bird sat singing to his mate
Soft cooing notes among the trees
The nightingale herself were cold
To such as these.

I saw the fourfold River flow,

And deep it was, with golden sand; It flowed between a mossy land Which murmured music grave and low. It hath refreshment for all thirst,

For fainting spirits strength and rest: Earth holds not such a draught as this From east to west.

The Tree of Life stood budding there,
Abundant with its twelvefold fruits;
Eternal sap sustains its roots,

Its shadowing branches fill the air.
Its leaves are healing for the world,

Its fruit the hungry world can feed,
Sweeter than honey to the taste
And balm indeed.

I saw the gate called Beautiful;

And looked, but scarce could look, within ;

I saw the golden streets begin,

And outskirts of the glassy pool.

Oh harps, oh crowns of plenteous stars, Oh green palm-branches many-leaved— Eye hath not seen, nor ear hath heard, Nor heart conceived.

I hope to see these things again,
But not as once in dreams by night;
To see them with my very sight,
And touch, and handle, and attain:
To have all Heaven beneath my feet
For narrow way that once they trod;
To have my part with all the Saints,
And with my GJD.

THE ONE GLAD DAY.

FREDRICK D. HUNTINgton.

HERE is no night in heaven;

THE

In that blest world above

Work never can bring weariness,
For work itself is love.

There is no night in heaven;
Yet nightly round the bed
Of every Christian wanderer
Faith hears an angel tread.

There is no grief in heaven;
For life is one glad day,

And tears are of those former things

Which all have passed away.