There no more of sin-born curses:

With the LORD, and with the LAMB, Face to face, each saint converses:

Every forehead bears his name.

"Come! ye citizens invited!"

Let the Spirits call be heard: "Come!" the Saviour's Bride, delighted, Echoes round the gracious word.

"Come!"-repeat it countless voices ;-
"All that thirst, yea all that will!
"Freely drink, whoe'er rejoices,

"From the fount of life, his fill!”

DESPONDING spirit rise

Above this mournful scene:

The land of promise lies
In regions yet unseen.

Haste! Jesus calls thee near;
He bids thy sorrows cease:
He dries the falling tear,

Inviting thee to peace.

GRINFIELD.

Beyond those suns of night,

Far in the dark blue heaven, Th' inheritance of light

To thee, my soul, is given.

Nor distant is the hour

Of ent'ring thine abode : When messengers of power

Shall bear thee home to God.

Then bid this world farewell,

And speed thee on thy way,

With blessed souls to dwell
In everlasting day :-

To love, and joy, and rest,

Where toil, and wrath, and woe

No more shall pain thy breast,

Nor cause thy tears to flow.

THE golden palace of my God,
Towering above the clouds, I see :
Beyond the cherub's bright abode,
Higher than angels thoughts can be.

J. E.

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!

RUSSIAN POETRY.

HUSH'D is the world's wild strife! its din is o'er!
Time's last faint wave has rippled to the sirore,'
And all is peace. An Angel, as he flew,
A moment paus'd, the amazing change to view.
List'ning, he caught the expiring world's last sigh:
He saw the latest spark, that linger'd, die
Amidst its ashes. In unbroken rest,

A waveless ocean slumbers on the breast

Of timeless ages: 'and the innumerous host
Of sainted spirits, on the peaceful coast
Where angels dwell, their anchors bright have cast,
Their long desired haven reach'd at last :
No more to launch upon the gulf, and furl'd
Their snow-white sails. Forgotten is the world,
Its tempests and its woes: as from the mind
The griefs of childhood pass, long left behind;
Or as the blooming glories of the spring,
O'er winter's darkling days, oblivion fling.

But where, my soul! and what shall be thy state, When fixed unchangeably shall be thy fate? Where thy eternal home, when thro' the sky This globe, unquenchably infiam'd, shall fly, And plunge into the chaos, whence it sprung :Like a marr'd vestment to perdition flung? Where?-Thou shalt answer for me, O my God! Thou, Saviour, who the path of death hast trod, To open life to me. Beside thy cross, Taught to esteem a fleeting world but loss, In thee I glory; and to thee intrust My ransom'd spirit and my sleeping dust. Before the throne, this, this my valid plea, That thou hast all fulfill'd and died for me. And this thy faithful word, Atoning Lamb! "My ransomed shall be with me where I am." Enough for me in that assurance given,

For where my Saviour is, there, there is Heaven!

J. E.

Now sleep, my strain!

Till, haply, wak'd by Raphael's golden lyre,
Where night, death, age, care, crime, and sorrow

cease,

To bear a part in everlasting lays.

YOUNG.

1

Now Heaven in all her glory shone, and rolled
One lovely motive govern'd Adam then
Six days the Heavenly Host, in circle vast
The high Creator had his six days works
The Primal Sabbath! the Creator's rest