My bark was drifted down the stream,
At will of wind or wave-

An idle, light, and fragile thing,
That few had cared to save.

Henceforth the tiller Truth shall hold,
And steer as Conscience tells,
And I will brave the storms of Fate,
Though wild the ocean swells.
I know my soul is strong and high,
If once I give it sway;

I feel a glorious power within,
Though light I seem and gay.

Oh, laggard Soul! unclose thine eyes,
No more in luxury soft

Of joy ideal waste thyself:

Awake, and soar aloft!

Unfurl this hour those falcon wings
Which thou dost fold too long;
Raise to the skies thy lightning gaze,
And sing thy loftiest song!

FRANCIS S. OSGOOD.

Endestructibility of Love.

THEY sin who tell us love can die;
With life all other passions fly,

All others are but vanity.

In heaven ambition cannot dwell,
Nor avarice in the vaults of hell:

Earthly these passions, as of earth,
They perish where they have their birth.
But love is indestructible;

Its holy flame for ever burneth,

From heaven it came, to heaven returneth;
Too oft on earth a troubled guest,

At times deceived, at times oppressed,
It here is tried and purified,

And hath in heaven its perfect rest:
It soweth here with toil and care,
But the harvest-time of love is there.
Oh! when a mother meets on high
The babe, the lost in infancy,

Hath she not then, for pains and fears,

The day of woe, the anxious night, For all her sorrow, all her tears,

An over-payment of delight?

ROBERT SOUTHEY.

I the Good Fight have fought. "THE good fight have fought "—

O when shall I declare!

The victory by my Saviour got,
I long with Paul to share.
O may I triumph so,

When all my warfare's past!
And dying, find my latest foe
Under my feet at last!

This blessed word be mine,

Just as the port is gain'd;-
"Kept by the power of grace divine,
I have the faith maintain'd:"

The apostles of my Lord,

To whom it first was given,

They could not speak a greater word,

Nor all the saints in heaven.

JOHN WESLEY.

E see them Walking in an Air of Glory.

HEY are all

THEY gone into a world of light,

I alone sit lingering here;

Their very memory is fair and bright,
And my sad thoughts doth clear.

It glows and glitters in my cloudy breast,
Like stars upon some gloomy grove;
Or those faint beams in which the hill is drest
After the sun's remove.

I see them walking in an air of glory,
Whose light doth trample on my days;
My days which are at best but dull and hoary,
Mere glimmerings and decays.

O holy Hope, and high Humility,

High as the heavens above!

These are your walks, and you have showed them

me,

To kindle my cold love.

Dear, beauteous Death, the jewel of the just,
Shining no where but in the dark,
What mysteries do lie beyond thy dust,
Could man outlook that mark!

He that hath found some fledged bird's nest may know,

;

At first sight, if the bird be flown But what fair field, or grove, he sings in now, That is to him unknown.

And yet as angels, in some brighter dreams,
Call to the soul when man doth sleep,
So some strange thoughts transcend our wonted
themes,

And into glory peep.

If a star were confined into a tomb,

Her captive flame must needs burn there; But when the hand that locked her up gave room, She'd shine through all the sphere.

O Father of eternal life, and all

Created glories under Thee!

Resume thy spirit from this world of thrall

Into true liberty.

Either disperse these mists, which blot and fill My perspective still as they pass;

Or else remove me hence unto that hill,

Where I shall need no glass.

HENRY VAUGHAN.

Enfinite Spirit! who art round us ever.

NFINITE Spirit! who art round us ever,

INF

In whom we float, as motes in summer-sky, May neither life nor death the sweet bond sever, Which joins us to our unseen Friend on high. Unseen-yet not unfelt-if any thought

Has raised our mind from earth, or pure desire, A generous act, or noble purpose brought,

It is thy breath, O LORD, which fans the fire.

To me, the meanest of thy creatures, kneeling, Conscious of weakness, ignorance, sin, and shame,

Give such a force of holy thought and feeling, That I may live to glorify thy name;

That I may conquer base desire and passion, That I may rise o'er selfish thought and will, O'ercome the world's allurement, threat, and fashion,

Walk humbly, softly, leaning on thee still. I am unworthy. Yet, for their dear sake

I ask, whose roots planted in me are found; For precious vines are propp'd by rudest stake, And heavenly roses fed in darkest ground. Beneath my leaves, though early fallen and faded, Young plants are warm'd,-they drink my branches' dew:

Let them not, LORD, by me be Upas-shaded; Make me, for their sake, firm, and pure, and true.