Through woe comes delight; if at evening thou sigh, And thy soul still at midnight in sorrow appears, Never mind, never mind! for the morning is nigh, Whose sunbeams of gladness shall dry up thy tears! Through death comes our life: to the portal of pain, Through Time's thistle-fields, are our weary steps driven;

Never mind, never mind! through this passage we gain The mansions of light and the portals of heaven.

LAUNCH THY BOAT, MARINER.

L

CAROLINE SOUTHEY.

AUNCH thy boat, mariner!

Christian, God speed thee!

Let loose the rudder-bands,

Good angels lead thee!
Set thy sails warily,

Tempests will come;
Steer thy course steadily,
Christian, steer home!

Look to the weather bow,
Breakers are round thee;
Let fall thy plummet now,
Shallows may ground thee;
Reef in the foresail there!
Hold the helm fast!
So, let the vessel wear,

There swept the blast.

"What of the night, watchman? What of the night?" "Cloudy-all quiet :

No land yet-all's right." Be wakeful, be vigilant,

Danger may be

At an hour when all seemeth
Securest to thee.

How, gains the leak so fast?
Clear out the hold;
Hoist up the merchandise,
Heave out the gold!
There, let the ingots go,

Now the ship rights;
Hurrah! the harbor's near,
Lo! the red lights!

Slacken not sail yet,

At inlet or island,
Straight for the beacon steer,
Straight for the highland;

Crowd all thy canvas on,
Cut through the foam;
Christian, cast anchor now,
Heaven is thy home!

WOULDST THOU INHERIT LIFE WITH
CHRIST?

WOULD

SIMON DACH, (1640).

WOULDST thou inherit life with Christ on high?
Then count the cost and know

That here on earth below

Thou needs must suffer with thy Lord and die.
We reach that gain to which all else is loss,
But through the cross.

Oh think what sorrows Christ himself has known!
The scorn and anguish sore,

The bitter death He bore,

Ere He ascended to His heavenly throne;
And deemest thou, thou canst with right complain,
Whate'er thy pain?

Not e'en the sharpest sorrows we can feel,
Nor keenest pangs, we dare

With that great bliss compare

When God His glory shall in us reveal.

That shall endure when our brief woes are o'er
For evermore!

I

THE PEARLY GATES AJAR.

EMILY C. JUDson.

GAZED down life's dim labyrinth,
A wildering maze to see,

Crossed o'er by many a tangled clue,
And wild as wild could be;

And as I gazed in doubt and dread,
An angel came to me.

I knew him for a heavenly guide,
I knew him even then,
Though meekly as a child he stood
Among the sons of men-

By his deep spirit-loveliness,
I knew him even then.

And as I leaned my weary head
Upon his proffered breast,
And scanned the peril-haunted wild
From out my place of rest,

I wondered if the shining ones
Of Eden were more blest.

For there was light within my soul,
Light on my peaceful way,

And all around the blue above

The clustering starlight lay;

And easterly I saw upreared
The pearly gates of day.

So, hand in hand, we trod the wild,
My angel love and I-

His lifted wing all quivering

With tokens from the sky.

Strange my dull thought could not divine 'Twas lifted but to fly!

Again down life's dim labyrinth
I grope my way alone,

While wildly through the midnight sky

Black, hurrying clouds are blown,

And thickly, in my tangled path,

The sharp, bare thorns are sown.

Yet firm my foot, for well I know
The goal cannot be far;
And ever, through the rifted clouds,
Shines out one steady star—

For when my guide went up, he left
The pearly gates ajar.

PILGRIMS FROM ALL LANDS.

MARSHALL B. SMITH.

W

E are pilgrims bound for the better land,

Where the stream of life laves the golden We have no continuing city here,

But our city of refuge, our home is there.