No, let me rather sit and sigh,

And drop contrition's silent tear : Praise is the task of saints on high; prayer of sinners here.

But

The song of God, that glorious song, From me in such a world as this?

O, no! a worthier heart and tongue Must speak of Him and His.

ELIJAH'S INTERVIEW WITH GOD.

"And He said, Go forth, and stand upon the mount before the Lord. And, behold, the Lord passed by; and a great and strong wind rent the mountains, and brake in pieces the rocks, before the Lord; but the Lord was not in the wind: and after the wind an earthquake; but the Lord was not in the earthquake: and after the earthquake a fire; but the Lord was not in the fire: and after the fire a still small voice." 1 Kings xix. 11, 12.

ON Horeb's rock the prophet stood:
The Lord before him passed:

A hurricane in angry mood

Swept by him strong and fast.

The forests fell before its force;

The rocks were shivered in its course:

God rode not in the blast!

'Twas but the whirlwind of His breath,

Announcing danger, wreck, and death.

It ceased: the air was mute.

A cloud

Came muffling up the sun :

When through the mountains deep and loud

An earthquake thundered on.

The frighted eagle sprang in air;

The wolf ran howling from his lair.

God was not in the stun!

'Twas but the rolling of His car,
The trampling of His steeds from far.

It ceased again; and Nature stood

And smoothed her ruffled frame:

When swift from heaven a fiery flood
To earth devouring came.

Down to his depths the ocean fled

;

The sickening sun looked wan and dead.

Yet God filled not the flame!

"Twas but the fierceness of His eye,

That lightened through the troubled sky.

At last a voice all still and small

Rose sweetly on the ear;

Yet rose so calm and clear, that all
In heaven and earth might hear.
It spoke of hope; it spoke of love;
It spoke as spirits speak above;

And God Himself was here!

For, O, it was a father's voice,

That bade His trembling world rejoice.

Speak, gracious Lord, speak ever thus ;

And let thy terrors prove

The harbingers of peace to us,

The heralds of thy love!

Shine through the earthquake, fire, and storm,

Shine in thy milder, better form,

And all our fears remove!

One word of thine is all we claim;

"Tis "mercy" through a Saviour's name.

THE MOTHER AND HER DYING BOY,

BOY.

My mother, my mother, O let me depart!

Your tears and your pleadings are swords to my heart.

I hear gentle voices, that chide my delay;

I see lovely visions, that woo me away.

My prison is broken, my trials are o'er !

O mother, my mother, detain me no more !

MOTHER.

And will you then leave us, my brightest, my

best?

And will you run nestling no more to my breast?