Oh! laud Him, and praise Him, redeem'd and forgiv'n!

And triumph and shout in the glory of Heav'n!

FOR UPHOLDING GRACE.

"Let him that thinketh he standeth take heed lest he fall."-1 Cor. x.

12.

WITHOUT thy precious aid, oh Lord!
Thy servant is but nought:

Impart Thy grace, Thy strength afford,
To fight as Thou hast fought-

To follow on in Thy blest track,
Resisting ev'ry wile—

The plough to grasp, nor looking back
On world and Satan's smile.

Uphold my footsteps by Thy word,
And girt me round with pow'r,
To wield the blessed Spirit's sword
In each assaulting hour.

And thus resist each foe

May, "It is written," "I'm the Way,"

Be all my guide below.

I would not, Lord! thy Spirit grieve-
Thou know'st I would not fall;

Lest Thy sweet peace my bosom leave,
And thou thy light recal.

Oh! let not then this heart grow weak-
A traitor in Thy band;

But grant the gracious aid I seek,

And cause me, Lord, to stand.

"Hold up my goings in thy paths, that my footsteps slip not,"

RETROSPECTION.

"Thou shalt remember all the way which the Lord thy God led thee these forty years in the Wilderness, to humble thee, and to prove thee, to know what was in thine heart, whether thou wouldst keep his commandments or no, to do thee good at thy latter end."-DEUT. viii, 2, 16.

I LOVE to think upon the way
The Lord my God hath led,
Throughout the Wilderness of woe,
Wherein my heart hath bled.

I love to think upon the cup,

That teem'd with seeming ill;

And when I stir its sweetness up
Find mercy help'd to fill.

I love His gracious hand to trace,
Unseen but working still,
Moulding the heart in ways of grace,
And bending human will.

Yet young-I ask'd the Spirit's might
To aid me in my course;
And things to lead to Heav'nly light,
"Or prosp'rous or reverse:"

And if, by lengthen'd sorrow's ways,
He led to joys divine,

And blest my soul with hope and peace;
Oh, how dare I repine !

When wand'ring from the narrow road,
Unmindful of His care,

Then, then it was, His chast'ning rod,
Reduc'd my soul to pray'r:

And when a lofty spirit rose,

With bitter feelings fraught,

Nor brook'd high looks from haughty brows, By painful stroke he taught,

That God, the High and Holy One,
His Majesty doth bow,

To dwell alone with humble one,

Forgiving, meek, and low:

And when in strength, my own I thought,

To bear the chast'ning rod;

Then grief on grief, with bitter draught, Bow'd down my soul to God.

And much I love to trace the means
Adapted to the end,
Since aught beside my stoic heart
Perchance had fail'd to bend

For if, I said, "the camel bears*
Mutely the heaviest load;"
Shall we, of "nobler clay" than theirs,
Sink 'neath the blighting goad?

Shall man's high nature weakly faint
Beneath the weight of care?
Shall he shrink down with feeble plaint,
"Nor temper it to bear ?"

But, oh! it came with with'ring tone,
And sorrow so intense,
As taught that Heav'nly grace alone
Could prove a sure defence.

At morning's dawn, at evening's shade,
At noon, at watch of night,

I humbly sought-I hourly pray'd-
"Oh Lord, let there be light!"

*See Childe Harold's Pilgrimage, Canto 4-21.

"Increase my Faith," my spirit cheer,
With joys from heav'n above;

And I through life content will bear
The marks of chast'ning love.

And while my heart with grief o'er-flow'd, He answer'd all my pray'r;

And love, and joy, and peace bestow'd, When shrouded most in care.

Then if by sad and devious ways
He led to joys divine,
And fill'd my soul with hope and peace ;
Oh, how can I repine!

Nay, I would oft remember still

The way His grace hath brought: Still praise Him for each seeming illThe gall with honey fraught

The care that came on mercy's wing,
To fix the heart above;
And Hope's refreshing waters bring
From streams of Heav'nly love.

In mem'ry's fondest depths I'd store
The gems from sorrow's mine,

And kiss the thorn, the rose that bore
With fragrance all divine.