These ashes too, this little dust,
Our Father's care shall keep,
Till the last angel rise and break
The long and dreary sleep.
Then love's soft dew o'er every eye
Shall shed its mildest rays,
And the long silent dust shall burst
With shouts of endless praise.
Our life how short! a groan, a sigh;
We live-and then begin to die:
But oh! how great a mercy this,
That death's a portal into bliss!
My soul! death swallows up thy fears,
My grave-clothes wipe away all tears;
Why should we fear this parting pain,
Who die, that we may live again.
STEADY PURSUIT OF HEAVEN.
THE dove let loose in eastern skies,
Returning fondly home,
Ne'er stoops to earth her wing, nor flies Where idler warblers roam;
But high she shoots through air and light, Above all low delay,
Where nothing earthly bounds her flight,
Nor shadow dims her way.
So grant me, Lord! from every stain,
Of sinful passion free,
Aloft, through virtue's purer air,
To steer iny course to thee!
No sin to cloud, no lure to stay,
My soul, as home she springs,
Thy sunshine on her joyful way,
Thy freedom on her wings.
THE golden palace of my God
Towering above the clouds I see,
Beyond the cherub's bright abode,
Higher than angels' thoughts can be:
How can I in those courts appear
Without a wedding garment on?
Conduct me, thou life-giver, there,
Conduct me to thy glorious throne,
And clothe me with thy robes of light,
And lead me through sin's darksome night,
My Saviour and my God.
THE HEAVENLY REST.
[Anonymous. THERE is an hour of peaceful rest, To mourning wanderers given; There is a joy for souls distressed, A balm for every wounded breast'Tis found above-in heaven.
There is a soft, a downy bed,
'Tis fair as breath of even,
A couch for weary mortals spread,
Where they may rest the aching head,
And find repose, in heaven!
There is a home for weary souls,
By sin and sorrow driven; When tossed on life's tempestuous shoals, Where storms arise, and ocean rolls. And all is drear but heaven!
There faith lifts up her cheerful eye
To brighter prospects given;
And views the the tempest passing by,
The evening shadows quickly fly
And all serene in heaven!
There fragrant flowers, immortal bloom,
And joys supreme are given:
There rays divine disperse the gloom:
Beyond the confines of the tomb,
Appears the dawn of heaven.
LORD of the sabbath, hear our vows,
On this thy day, in this thine house;
And own, as grateful sacrifice,
The songs which from the desert rise.
Thine earthly sabbaths, Lord, we love ;
But there's a nobler rest above;
To that our labouring souls aspire,
With ardent hope and strong desire.
No more fatigue, no more distress,
Nor sin, nor death, shall reach that place :
No tears shall mingle with the songs
That warble from immortal tongues.
No rude alarms of raging foes,
No cares to break the long repose,
No midnight shade, no clouded sun-
But sacred, high, eternal noon.
O long expected day, begin;
Dawn on these realms of wo and sin;
Fain would we leave this weary road,
And sleep in death to rest with God,
THE HEAVENLY TEMPLE.
[Logan. WHERE high the heavenly temple stands, The house of God not made with hands,
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