THE DESTRUCTION OF SENNACHERIB.

Byron.

THE Assyrian came down like the wolf on the fold, And his cohorts were gleaming in purple and gold; And the sheen of his spears was like stars on the sea When the blue wave rolls nightly on deep Galilee.

Like the leaves of the forest when Summer is green. That host with their banners at sunset were seen: Like the leaves of the forest when Autumn hath

blown,

That host on the morrow lay wither'd and strown.

For the Angel of Death spread his wings on the blast,

And breathed in the face of the foe as he pass'd; And the eyes of the sleepers wax'd deadly and chill, And their hearts but once heaved, and for ever grew still.

And there lay the steed with his nostril all wide, But thro' it there roll'd not the breath of his pride; And the foam of his gasping lay white on the turf, And cold as the spray of the rock-beating surf.

And there lay the rider distorted and pale,
With the dew on his brow, and the rust on his mail;
And the tents were all silent, the banners alone,
The lances unlifted, the trumpet unblown.

And the widows of Ashur are loud in their wail,
And the idols are broke in the temple of Baal;
And the might of the Gentile, unsmote by the sword,
Hath melted like snow in the glance of the Lord.

EVENING TIME.

Montgomery.

"AT evening time let there be light;"
Life's little day draws near its close;
Around me fall the shades of night,
The night of death, the grave's repose :
To crown my joys, to end my woes,
At evening time let there be light.

At evening time let there be light:
Stormy and dark hath been my day;
Yet rose the morn divinely bright,

Dews, birds, and blossoms, cheer'd the way :
O, for one sweet, one parting ray!

At evening time let there be light.

At evening time there shall be light;
For God hath spoken; it must be:
Fear, doubt, and anguish, take their flight,
His glory now is risen on me;

Mine eyes shall his salvation see:

-'Tis evening time, and there is light.

DEATH.

William Brummond.

LET us, each day, inure ourselves to die,
If this, and not our fears, be truly death,
Above the circles both of hope and faith
With fair, immortal pinions to fly;
If this be death, our best part to untie

By ruining the gaol, from lust and wrath,
And every drowsy langour here beneath,
To be made deniz'd citizen of sky;

To have more knowledge than all books contain, All pleasures even surmounting wishing power, The fellowship of God's immortal train,

And these that time nor force shall e'er devour: If this be death, what joy, what golden care Of life, can with death's ugliness compare?

PRAISE FOR THE FOUNTAIN OPENED.

Cowper.

THERE is a fountain fill'd with blood,

Drawn from Emanuel's veins ;

And sinners plunged beneath that flood
Lose all their guilty stains.

The dying thief rejoiced to see
That fountain in his day;
And there have I, as vile as he,
Wash'd all my sins away.

Dear dying Lamb, thy precious blood
Shall never lose its power,
Till all the ransom'd church of God

Be saved, to sin no more.

E'er since, by faith, I saw the stream
The flowing wounds supply,
Redeeming Love has been my theme,
And shall be till I die.

E

Then I a nobler, sweeter song,

I'll sing thy power to save, When this poor lisping, stamm'ring tongue Lies silent in the grave.

Lord, I believe thou hast prepared (Unworthy though I be)

For me a blood-bought free reward,

A golden harp for me.

'Tis strung and tuned for endless years, And form'd by power divine,

To sound in God the Father's ears

No other name but thine.

IN BEREAVEMENT.

James Montgomery.

LIFT up thine eyes, afflicted soul !
From earth uplift thine eyes,
Though dark the evening shadows roll,

And daylight beauty dies;

One sun is set- -a thousand more

Their rounds of glory run,