Unheeded, o'er our silent dust
The storms of life shall beat.
4 Yet not thus lifeless, thus inane,
The vital spark shall lie :

For o'er life's wreck that spark shall rise,
To seek its kindred sky.

1 LIKE shadows gliding o'er the plain, Or clouds that roll successive on, Man's busy generations pass;

J. TAYLOR

And while we gaze, their forms are gone. 2" He lived, he died"; behold the sum,

The abstract, of th' historian's page.
Alike, in God's all-seeing eye,

The infant's day, the patriarch's age.
3 O Father, in whose mighty hand
The boundless years and ages lie,
Teach us thy boon of life to prize,
And use the moments as they fly;
4 To crowd the narrow span of life

With wise designs and virtuous deeds :
So shall we wake from death's dark night,
To share the glory that succeeds.

565.

C. H. M.

What is your Life?

J. TAYLOR

1 O, WHAT is life?— 't is like a flower

That blossoms and is gone;

It flourishes its little hour,

With all its beauty on :

Death comes, and, like a wintry day,

It cuts the lovely flower away.

2 O, what is life?

't is like the bow

That glistens in the sky :

We love to see its colors glow ;
But, while we look, they die :

Life fails as soon:

to-day 't is here;

To-morrow it may disappear.

3 Lord, what is life?-if spent with thee,
In humble praise and prayer,

How long or short our life may be,
We feel no anxious care:

Though life depart, our joys shall last
When life and all its joys are past.

566.

C. M.

Man's Mortality.

HEBFR

1 BENEATH our feet and o'er our head

Is equal warning given;
Beneath us lie the countless dead,

Above us is the heaven.

2 Their names are graven on the stone,
Their bones are in the clay;
And ere another day is done,
Ourselves may be as they.

3 Death rides on every passing breeze;
He lurks in every flower;

Each season has its own disease,
Its peril every hour.

4 Our eyes have seen the rosy light
Of youth's soft cheek decay,
And fate descend in sudden night
On manhood's middle day;

5 Our eyes have seen the steps of age
Halt feebly towards the tomb ;-
yet shall earth our hearts engage,
And dreams of days to come?

And

6 Turn, mortal, turn; thy danger know
Where'er thy foot can tread,

The earth rings hollow from below,
And warns thee of her dead!

1 LIFE is the time to serve the Lord,
The time t' insure the great reward;
And while the lamp holds out to burn,
To thee the sinner may return.

2 Life is the hour that thou hast given
To fit us for the joys of heaven;
The day of grace, and mortals may
Secure the blessings of the day.
3 Then the great work we have to do,
Let us, with all our might, pursue ;
And wisely every hour employ,
Till faith and hope are lost in joy.

568.

8 & 4s. M.

Vanity of the World.

1 ALAS! how poor and little worth Are all those glittering toys of earth That lure us here!

.

WATTS

ANONYMOUS.

Dreams of a sleep that death must break •
Alas! before it bids us wake,

They disappear.

2 Where is the strength that spurned decay,
The step that rolled so light and gay,
The heart's blithe tone?

The strength is gone, the step is slow,
And joy grows weariness and woe
When age comes on.

3 Our birth is but a starting-place;
Life is the running of the race,
And death the goal:

There all those glittering toys are brought,
That path alone, of all unsought,
Is found of all.

4 O, let the soul its slumbers break,
Arouse its senses, and awake
To see how soon

Life, like its glories, glides away,
And the stern footsteps of decay
Come stealing on.

1 WEAK and irresolute is man :

The purpose of to-day,
Woven with pains into his plan,
To-morrow rends away.

2 Some foe to his upright intent
Finds out his weaker part;
Virtue engages his assent,

But pleasure wins his heart.

3 Bound on a voyage of awful length,
Through dangers little known,
A stranger to superior strength,
Man vainly trusts nis own.

4 But oars alone can ne'er prevail
To reach the distant coast;

COWPER

The breath of heaven must swell the sail,
Or all the toil is lost.

570.

C. M.

Frail Life and succeeding Eternity.

1 THEE we adore, Eternal Name,

And humbly own to thee

How feeble is our mortal frame,

What dying worms are we.

2 Our wasting lives grow shorter still,
As months and days increase;

WATTS

And every beating pulse we tell
Leaves but the number less.

3 The year rolls round, and steals away
The breath that first it gave;
Whate'er we do, where'er we be,
We 're travelling to the grave.

4 Dangers stand thick through all the ground,
To push us to the tomb;

And fierce diseases wait around,
To hurry mortals home.

5 Waken, O Lord, our drowsy sense,
To walk this dangerous road;
And, if our souls are hurried hence,
May they be found with God!

571.

11s. M.

I would not live alway.

MUHLENBURG.

I WOULD not live alway; I ask not to stay Where storm after storm rises dark o'er the way I would not live alway; no, welcome the tomb ; Since Jesus hath lain there, I dread not its gloom 2 Who, who would live alway, away from his God, Away from yon heaven, that blissful abode, Where the rivers of pleasure flow o'er the bright plains,

And the noontide of glory eternally reigns?

$ Where the saints of all ages in harmony meet,
Their Saviour and brethren transported to greet,
While the anthems of rapture unceasingly roll,
And the smile of the Lord is the life of the soul!

The dying Christian to his Soul.

1 VITAL spark of heavenly flame,
Quit, O, quit this mortal frame!

POPE