surely
Ye soon will feel his power.
Be watchful, be not weary;
Let not thy spirit cower.

The path is steep and narrow;
'Tis rugged, rough, and torn;
A harsh, a testing harrow,
Beset with many a thorn.

There yawns a mighty chasm;
The fearful pit is deep;
'Tis terror but to see them;
It makes the spirit creep.

No guide but One is able
To lead thee safely through;
All others are unstable,
Unfit, untried, untrue.

Fly to the rock for safety--
The rock he cannot climb!
Fly! fly! nor think it hasty;
And trust not fickle time.

FRIENDSHIP.

And friendship is the sacred name--
The name I love to hear;
Gives to my heart a sacred flame,
And music to my ear.

Yes, friendship is a joy indeed,
A peaceful, fragrant bower;
To which doth many a soul recede
In tribulation's hour;

And there its load of sorrow lays,
Feels conscious of relief,
Soothed by the balm which it displays
For healing wounds of grief.

Its paths are pleasant and serene;
They lie in pleasure's way;
It is true pleasure--there is seen
No base, no false array.

'Tis there true joy is to be found,
And anger lays her down
Amid the placid scenes around,
To bask away her frown.

And there that childhood oft is seen
To spread its purest glee,
And hold its dimpled arms in ween
To friendship pure and free.

'Tis there that riper manhood goes
And feeble age reclines;
For it the genial sunshine knows,
Which on her pathway shines.

True friendship's fervour ne'er grows cold;
Its lamp doth alway burn;
Its beauty never waxeth old;
Its shadows never turn.

The waters are both sweet and pure,
Which through its courses flow;
Such as would souls of trouble lure;
'Tis they who try them know.

Were old and young together joined,
In friendship's paths to tread,
What blessings would thereby rebound
On many a sorrowing head!

TO THE SPIRIT OF POETRY.

Hail, spirit of poetic flame!
Thine is the theme for me;
Thine are the realms--the glorious realms
My fancy longs to see.

What seraph on the wings of light
Can bear a charm like thee?
And where, in fancy's wide domain,
Can fitter grandeur be?

Behold thy shadows on the sky,
Thy glory in the sun;
And o'er the earth, as light as air,
Thy fairy footsteps run.

I see thee in the smiling morn