n the tomb,
And scatters o'er the bed of death bright buds of deathless bloom.
'Tis true the parting hour will come, "the loved" it cannot save;
But it can teach us with a smile to yield them to the grave;
To watch with chastened sober bliss the spirit's calm release,
Trusting, though life have storms for us, all with the dead is peace.
And even while the bosom aches, aches to its inmost core,
This heavenly beam can bid it joy that earthly ties are o'er.
For oh! our covenant Lord, who ne'er his sacred promise breaks,
Has sweetly said, when all the world, the changing world, forsakes,
He will be all the world to us; then freely may the heart
Resign the fondly coffered bliss that clogs the immortal part,
(In holy trust 'twill all be ours when earth has passed away,)
And calmly wait the unclouded dawn of an eternal day,
Conscious while God is near, earth's best and purest joy is given,
For 'tis His holy presence makes the perfect bliss of Heaven.

1829. E. P. K.

SHEPHERD OF ISRAEL.

Shepherd of Israel! o'er Thy fold
How sweet Thy guardian care,
To them invisible indeed,
Yet present everywhere.

Thy crook still points to "pastures green,"
When rugged paths they see,
Beside "still waters" bids them rest,
And cast their care on Thee.

The "stranger's voice" thou, Lord, canst teach
Their watchful ears to know,
And make their "peace," their heavenly peace,
Like boundless waters flow.

When round this thorny world we stray
And find no place of rest,
Then come like "doves unto the ark,"
Faint, wearied, and oppressed,

Thy gentle hand is soon put forth
Each wanderer to receive;
Thou bindest up the broken heart,
And bidd'st the sinner live.

Why should we fear the storms of time?
Thy word their force can stay;
_Enough, be still!_ the high behest,
Which winds and waves obey.

"Thy will be done" can calm the soul
By fearful tempests driven,
The holiest anthem sung on earth,
The highest heard in Heaven.

1830. E. P. K.

WOODBURN.

Oh, the brow that has never been shaded by care
The rosewreath of pleasure may smilingly wear,
And the heart that is wholly a stranger to gloom,
'Mid the din of existence may fearlessly bloom;
But the one that is blighted by sadness and