TAKE UP THY CROSS AND FOLLOW ME.

HE way seems long, dear Leader: and my feet

THE

Are weary, pressing oft these thorns: 'twere sweet,

Methinks, to rest: this heavy cross remove : Thou surely need'st not thus my love to prove. "Rest not, weak heart, nor lay thy burden down : For earth's short rest would lose thy heavenly crown."

The way is dark, dear Leader; mists arise

That hide Thy blessed presence from my eyes:
I stumble on this lonely mountain wild:

O loving Father! spare me, spare thy child.
"Dost hear my voice? Then follow as I bade:
Thou'rt safe if firm on Me thy trust is stayed."
But I am faint, dear Leader: and I sink;
My steps are well-nigh gone; upon the brink
I helpless fall: put forth thy mighty power,
And save me, loving Father, in this hour.
"Drink freely of the brook that floweth by ;
Then lift thy head,-thy Leader still is nigh."

And must it thus, dear Leader, ever be?
And may we here no resting-place e'er see?
Though faint and weary, light or dark the way,
Press forward e'en to reach heaven's blessed day?
"Enough that as the Master thou shouldst live:
Faithful to death, thou shalt the crown receive."

Onward, dear Jesus! Safely by Thee led, Faint, yet pursuing, still the path I'll tread : Gird me with strength, then all my prayer shall be, "Father, e'en so; it seemeth good to thee; "And, as my days Thy strength shall ever be, While heaven's eternal glory awaiteth me!"

THROUGH DEATH TO LIFE.

Ascribed to HARBAUGH, an English author.

HAVE you heard of the tale of the Aloe plant,

Away in the sunny clime,

By humble growth of a hundred years,
It reaches its blooming time;

And then a wondrous bud at its crown
Bursts into a thousand flowers;

This floral green, in its beauty seen,

Is the pride of the tropical bowers,

But the plant to the flower is a sacrifice,
For it blooms but once, and in blooming dies?

Have you further heard of this Aloe plant,
That grows in the sunny clime!
How every one of its thousand flowers,

As they fall in the blooming time,

Is an infant tree that fastens its roots

In the place where they fall to the ground, And fast as they drop from the dying stem, Grow lively and lovely around?

By dying it liveth a thousandfold,

In the young that springs from the death of the old.

Have you heard the tale of the Pelican,
The Arab's Gimel El Bahr!

That lives in the African solitudes,

Where the birds that live lonely are?
Have you heard how it loves its tender young,
And toils and cares for their good?
It brings them water from fountains afar,
And fishes the sea for their food;

In famine it feeds them, what love can devise!
The blood of its bosom, and feeding them dies.

Have you heard the tale they tell of the Swan,
The snow-white bird of the lake?

It noiselessly floats on the silver wave,
It silently sits on the brake-
For it saves its song till the close of life,
And then in the calm still even,
'Mid the golden rays of the setting sun,
It sings as it soars to Heaven.

And the blessed notes fall back from the skies,
'Tis its only song, for in singing it dies.

You have heard these tales, shall I tell you one,
A greater and better than all-

Have you heard of Him whom the Heavens adore,
And before whom the hosts of them fall?
How He left His choirs and anthems above,
For earth in its wailings and woes,

To suffer the shame and pain of the cross,
And die for the life of His foes?

O Prince of the noble! O Saviour Divine !
What sorrow or sacrifice equal to Thine?

Have you heard of this tale—the best of them all,
The tale of the Holy and True?

He dies--but His life now in untold souls,
Springs up in the world anew—

His seed prevails, and is filling the earth,
As the stars fill the sky above--
He taught us to give up the love of life,
For the sake of the life of love-

His death is our life-His life is our gain,
The joy for the tear, the peace for the pain.

Now hear these tales, ye weary and worn,
Who for others do give up your all.

Our Saviour has told us the seed that would grow,
Into earth's dark bosom must fall-

And pass from the sight and die away,

And then will the fruit appear.

The grain that seems lost in the earth below,
Will return manifold in the ear.

By death comes life-by loss comes gain;
Heaven's joy for the tear-heaven's peace for the pain!

Verily there is a reward for the righteous.-Ps. 58: 11.

Thou shalt be recompensed at the resurrection of the just.-Luke 14: 14.

Then shall the righteous shine forth as the sun in the kingdom of their Father.-Matt. 13: 43.

Wherefore comfort one another with these words.-1 Thess. 4: 18.