For all thy saints, O Lord,

Accept our thankful cry,

Who counted Thee their great reward,

And strove in Thee to die..

They all in life and death,

With Thee, their Lord, in view,

Learned from Thy Holy Spirit's breath
To suffer and to do.

Thy mystic members fit

To join thy saints above

In one unmixed communion knit,

And fellowship of love.

For this Thy name we bless,
And humbly beg that we

May follow them in holiness,

And live and die in Thee.

RICHARD MANT.

THE FAMILY IN HEAVEN AND EARTH.

"All live in Him."

LORD! if our dwelling-place Thou art,

With all Thine own we dwell;

O never may those lovers part

Who love the Lord full well.

The souls most precious to us here
May from this home have fled;
But still we make one household dear;
One Lord is still our head.

Midst cherubim and seraphim
They mind their Lord's affairs ;
O! if we bring our work to Him,
Our work is one with theirs.

THOMAS HORNBLOWER GILL.

THE CLOUD OF WITNESSES.

HEN the powers of Hell prevail

WHEN

O'er our weakness and unfitness,

Could we lift the fleshly veil,

Could we for a moment witness

Those unnumbered hosts that stand

Calm and bright on either hand;

Could we see, though far and faint,
(Sight too great for eyes unholy,)
Face of some departed saint
Tinged for us with melancholy;

Oh, what strength of shame and woe
Would start up to slay the foe!

Oh, what joyful hope would cheer,
Oh, what faith serene would guide us!
Great may be the danger near,

Greater are the friends beside us;

Oh! what reverent heed would then
Guide our footsteps among men!

Lord! Thy saints in evil hour

So did feel Thine armies round them,
That no sin could overpower,

And no shape of Death astound them –

Make our faith what theirs hath been
Evidence of things unseen.

ANONYMOUS.

FLIGHT OF THE SPIRIT.

WHITHER, oh! whither wilt thou wing thy way ?

What solemn region first upon thy sight

Shall break, unveiled for terror or delight?
What hosts, magnificent in dread array,
My spirit! when thy prison-house of clay
After long strife is rent? Fond, fruitless quest !
The unfledged bird, within his narrow nest,

Sees but a few green branches o'er him play,
And through their parting leaves, by fits revealed,
A glimpse of summer sky; nor knows the field
Wherein his dormant powers must yet be tried.
Thou art that bird! — of what beyond thee lies
Far in the untracked, immeasurable skies
Knowing but this - that thou shalt find thy Guide!

FELICIA D. HEMANS.

MISCELLANEOUS.

THE UNFAILING ONE.

"He faileth not."- ZEPH. iii. 5.

HE who hath led will lead

All through the wilderness;

He who hath fed will feed;

He who hath blessed will bless; He who hath heard thy cry

Will never close His ear;

He who hath marked thy faintest sigh
Will not forget thy tear.

He loveth always, faileth never,
So rest on Him, to-day, forever!

Then trust Him for to-day

As thine unfailing Friend,

And let Him lead thee all the way,
Who loveth to the end.