THE GOOD EXPLORE. Byron. -The good explore For peace, those realms where guilt can never soar, The proud, the wayward-who have fixed below Their joy, and find this world enough for woe, Lose in that one their all,-perchance, a mite, But who with patience parts with all delight? many a stoic eye and aspect stern, * Full ON THE DESOLATION OF ISRAEL. Byran. OH! weep for those that wept by Babel's stream, Whose shrines are desolate, whose land a dream; Weep for the harp of Judah's broken shell; Mourn where their God hath dwelt the godless dwell! And where shall Israel lave her bleeding feet? And when shall Zion's songs again seem sweet? And Judah's melody once more rejoice The hearts that leap'd before its heavenly voice? Tribes of the wandering foot and weary breast, THE MISSIONARY'S FAREWELL TO ENGLAND. Hartley. I LEAVE MY fond, my native home; O land so greatly famed, farewell! 'Tis mine through distant climes to roam, With pensive Solitude to dwell: Whate'er I loved of England most, Oft mid your haste, ye boyish days, Hail to the Providence whose hand, In heaven's high realm, in thee I found; With Him to know, who sufferings bare For man so lost, can aught compare? Knowledge divine! ere while esteem'd And glad the martyr's sufferings bore. Go, said the Lord; pardon and peace Of opening prison to the bound; I go, O Lord, to bear thy love I'll pause, and "Calvary" repeat: O may that love of Christ, who died, Nought earthly in my breast remain ! For Christ to die, for Christ to live! Thy might my own, I know no fear,- By land or sea alike to save; Jehovah's love and power control The winds that roar, the waves that roll. And should the sun, that rides on high, Or Afric's scorching desert tread,— The sun that glows, those burning sands, They burn and glow as God commands. Whether I tread the sacred soil, Or Which strews thy summit, Zion's hill! up the steep of Sinai toil, Or wander lone by Kedron's rill, And where the vengeful angel's rod Marks Stamboul's towers,-I'll walk with God! With thoughts like these I part serene : Ah, when the archangel's voice shall rend the skies, A PERSIAN PRECEPT AND ILLUSTRATION. Greenwood. FORGIVE thy foes :-nor that alone, Fill those with joy who leave thee none, And kiss the hand upraised to slay. K |