EGERIA.

Sending woodland wilds among,
All the thrilling powers of song;
Or through fields of ambient air,
Whilst they carol praises there.
Like the labours of the bee
Was thy honied industry,
Gathering treasures fresh and new,
Fragrance from the shining dew,
Hybla sweets from herb and flower
That adorn each summer bower,
Like the busy, busy bee,

Wast thou in thine industry.

Like the silkworm's golden thread,

In its rich profusion spread,
Glistening as we see it lie

In its own fair radiancy.
So by gifted impulse taught,

Didst thou weave the web of thought,

All untiring, till at last

See thy hours of sunshine past,
And thy loom at work no more,
Yields its bright, its finished store.
And in life's meridian day,
Ere thy spirit passed away,
How did then thy soul design
Offerings at Devotion's shrine-
Saintly offerings, better far

Than the mind's proud laurels are ;
Sweeter than the voice of Fame
Sounds the Saviour's hallowed name.

Minstrel since to tune thy lay,
Here it was not thine to stay,

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To thine hand in yonder Heaven,
May a loftier strain be given;
There shall each extatic lyre
Adoration's songs inspire ;
Whilst the lips of angels sing

Praises to our glorious King.

"As the hart panteth after the water brooks, so panteth my soul after thee, O God."-PSALM xlii. 1.

A BRITISH ECOLAMPADIUS.

YES, thou wast lovely in thy life below!
Thy earthly way

Was gilded by the bright, celestial glow
Of heaven's clear day.

For thou didst wàlk with Jesus, and his smile
Of quickening power,

Could many a shade of passing woe beguile
In sorrow's hour.

He won thy heart to serve Him, and thy love
Sublimed from earth,

Like incense rose to yonder courts above,
Where joy has birth.

His love possessed thy spirit, and thy tongue
For Him could speak!

Whose praise by votive lips like thine, was sung
With accents meek.

A MODERN ECOLAMPADIUS.

He taught thee many a lesson, and thy soul
Its worth could tell ;

'Twas thine to drink through Wisdom's flowing bowl, From her pure well.

Philosophy unfolded oft her page

To charm thy view,

And well might theories like hers, engage
Thy purpose true.

Bright was thy sojourn in this vale below,
Where tears abound;

Thy hand was raised to stay the tide of woe,
And bind the wound.

A minister, endued with gospel grace,
On bended knee;

'Twas thine to seek unveiled, that glorious face,
Which who may see!

But now thy vision greets Him, and behold!
That sea of glass,

Mingled in light with heaven's resplendent gold,
Where angels pass

On shining errands bidden,—there with them,
In concert one,

'Tis thine to wear that radiant diadem,
Redemption's crown!

And now before the everlasting throne,
We see thee bend ;

Whilst to the glorious Godhead, three in one,
Thy vows ascend.

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