Oh! hast Thou not a blessing left, The dew lies thick on all the ground, The manna rains from heaven around, Behold Thy prisoner ;-loose my bands, If 'tis Thy gracious will; If not, contented in thine hands, Behold Thy prisoner still! I may not to Thy courts repair, prayer To faith reveal the things unseen, Oh! make Thy face on me to shine, THE LOT OF THE RIGHTEOUS. "We know that all things work together for good to them that love God." Rom. viii. 28. YEA "ALL things work together for their good!" 'Tis like JEHOVAH's throne, where marvellous light The beatific vision, face to face, Shrinks from perfection which no eye can see, Yea," ALL things work together for their good!" How shall the mystery be understood? From man's primeval curse are these set free, Sin slain, death swallow'd up in victory? The body from corruption so refined, 'Tis but the immortal vesture of the mind? The mind from folly so to wisdom won, 'Tis a pure sunbeam of the eternal sun? Ah! no, no;—all that troubles life is theirs, Hard toil, sharp suffering, slow-consuming cares; To mourn and weep; want raiment, food, and rest, Brood o'er the unutter'd anguish of the breast; To love, to hope, desire, possess, in vain; Wrestle with weakness, weariness, and pain, Struggle with fell disease from breath to breath, And every moment die a moment's death. This is their portion, this the common lot; Its love, its hatred; its neglect and scorn; The pangs of conscience, when God's holy law, Through Sinai's thunders, strikes them dumb with awe; Passions disorder'd, when insane desires Blow the rank embers of unhallow'd fires; Evils that lurk in ambush at the heart, And shoot their arrows thence through every part; Ambition, like the great red dragon, hurl'd, Sheer from heaven's battlements to this low world, - These, which blithe worldlings laugh at and con temn, Are worse than famine, sword, and fire to them. Nor these alone, for neither few nor small The trials rising from their holy call: -The Spirit's searching, proving, cleansing flames; Duty's demands, the Gospel's sovereign claims; Stern self-denial counting all things loss For Christ, and daily taking up the cross; The broken heart, or heart that will not break, That aches not, or that cannot cease to ache; Doubts and misgivings, lest when storms are past, They make sad shipwreck of the faith at last : These, and a thousand forms of fear and shame, Bosom-temptations, that have not a name, But have a nature, felt through flesh and bone, Through soul and spirit,-felt by them alone; These, these the Christian pilgrims sore distress, Like thorns and briars of the wilderness; These keep them humble, keep them in the path, As those that flee from everlasting wrath. Yet, while their hearts and hopes are fix'd above, As those who lean on everlasting love, On faithfulness, which, though heaven's pillars bend, And earth's base fail, uphold them to the end ;By them, by them alone 'tis understood, How all things work together for their good. Would'st THOU too understand?-behold I show The perfect way,-Love GOD, and thou shalt know. A BENEDICTION FOR A BABY. WHAT blessing shall I ask for thee, That, which our Saviour, at his birth, Brought down with Him from heaven to earth. What next, in childhood's April years What in the wayward path of youth, What, in temptation's wilderness, What, in the labour, pain, and strife, |