Whether, then, in want or wealth,
Joy or sorrow, pain or health,

Still our prayer shall be the same :
Father, hallowed be Thy name.

CONDER.

Father! not my Will, but Thine be Done.

LORD my God, do Thou Thy holy will—

I will lie still

I will not stir, lest I forsake Thine arm,
And break the charm,

Which lulls me, clinging to my Father's breast,
In perfect rest.

Wild Fancy, peace! thou must not me beguile
With thy false smile:

I know thy flatteries and thy cheating ways.
Be silent, Praise,

Blind guide with siren voice, and blinding all
That hear thy call.

Come, Self-devotion, high and pure,
Thoughts that in thankfulness endure,
Though dearest hopes are faithless found,
And dearest hearts are bursting round.
Come, Resignation, spirit meek,
And let me kiss thy placid cheek,

And read in thy pale eye serene

Their blessing, who by faith can wean
Their hearts from sense, and learn to love

God only, and the joys above.

They say, who know the life divine,
And upward gaze with eagle eyne,
That by each golden crown on high,
Rich with celestial jewelry,

Which for our Lord's redeem'd is set,
There hangs a radiant coronet,

All gemm'd with pure and living light,
Too dazzling for a sinner's sight,
Prepar'd for virgin souls, and them
Who seek the martyr's diadem.

Nor deem, who to that bliss aspire,
Must win their way through blood and fire.
The writhings of a wounded heart

Are fiercer than a foeman's dart.
Oft in Life's stillest shade reclining,
In Desolation unrepining,
Without a hope on earth to find
A mirror in an answering mind,
Meek souls there are, who little dream
Their daily strife an Angel's theme,
Or that the rod they take so calm
Shall prove in Heaven a martyr's palm.

And there are souls that seem to dwell
Above this earth- -so rich a spell

Floats round their steps, where'er they move,
From hopes fulfill'd and mutual love.
Such, if on high their thoughts are set,
Nor in the stream the source forget,
If prompt to quit the bliss they know,
Following the Lamb where'er He go,

By purest pleasures unbeguil'd

To idolize or wife or child;

Such wedded souls our God shall own

For faultless virgins round His throne.

Thus every where we find our suffering God,
And where He trod

May set our steps: the Cross on Calvary
Uplifted high

Beams on the martyr host, a beacon light
In open fight.

To the still wrestlings of the lonely heart
He doth impart

The virtue of His midnight agony,
When none was nigh,

Save God and one good angel, to assuage
The tempest's rage.

Mortal! if life smile on thee, and thou find
All to thy mind,

Think, who did once from Heaven to Hell descend
Thee to befriend:

So shalt thou dare forego, at His dear call,
Thy best, thine al .

"O Father! not My will, but Thine be done ". So spake the Son.

Be this our charm, mellowing Earth's ruder noise Of griefs and joys:

That we may cling for ever to Thy breast

In perfect rest!

JOHN KEBLE.

Forgive, Blest Shade, the Tributary Tear.

FORGIVE, blest shade, the tributary tear

That mourns thy exit from a world like this; Forgive the wish that would have kept thee here, And stayed thy progress to the seats of bliss. No more confined to grovelling scenes of night, No more a tenant pent in mortal clay : Now should we rather hail thy glorious flight, And track thy journey to the realms of day.

Father All Merciful !

FATHER Almighty!

STEELE.

From thy high seat thou watchest and controllest The insects that upon thy footstool creep, While, with a never-wearied hand, thou rollest Millious of worlds along the boundless deep. O Father; now the clouds hang blackening o'er us, And the dark, boiling deeps beneath us yawn: Scatter the tempests, quell the waves before us; To the wild, fearful night send thou a blessed dawn.

Father All Holy!

When thou shalt sit upon thy throne of glory, The steadfast earth, the strong, untiring sea, Their verdant isles, their mountains high and hoary,

With awe and fear shall from thy presence flee.

Then shalt thou sit a Judge, the guilty dooming
To adamantine chains and endless fire:
Oh, Father! how may we abide thy coming?
Where find a shelter from the pure Jehovah's
ire ?

Father All Merciful!

Still may the guilty come in peace before thee, Bathing thy feet with tears of love and woe; And while for pardon only we implore thee, Blessings divine, unnumbered, o'er us flow. Father, her heart from all her idols tearing,

Thine erring child again would turn to thee; To thee she bends, trembling, yet not despairing: From fear, remorse, and sin, O Father! set her free.

MARTHA Day.

God of my Fathers!

OD of my fathers! holy, just, and good!

GOD

My God! my Father! my unfailing hope! Jehovah! let the incense of my praise, Accepted, burn before thy mercy-seat,

And in thy presence burn, both day and night. Maker! Preserver! my Redeemer, God!

Whom have I in the heavens but Thee alone? On earth, but Thee, whom should I praise, whom

love?

For Thou hast brought me hitherto, upheld