TRUST IN GOD.

PSALM XXIII.

THE Lord my pasture shall prepare,
And feed me with a shepherd's care:
His presence shall my want supply,
And guard me with a watchful eye;
My noonday walks He shall attend,
And all my midnight hours defend.

When in the sultry glebe I faint,
Or on the thirsty mountain pant,
To fertile vales and dewy meads
My weary wandering steps He leads,
Where peaceful rivers, soft and slow,
Amid the verdant landscape flow.

Though in the paths of death I tread
With gloomy horrors overspread,
My steadfast heart shall fear no ill,
For Thou, O Lord, art with me still;
Thy friendly crook shall give me aid,
And guide me through the dreadful shade.

Though in a bare and rugged way,
Through devious lonely wilds I stray,
Thy bounty shall my pains beguile;
The barren wilderness shall smile,

With sudden greens and herbage crown'd,
And streams shall murmur all around.

JOSEPH ADDISON, 1672–1719.

HOW SWEET THE FALL OF EVE!

How sweet the fall of Eve,

When, in the glowing West,

The sun hath sunk to rest,

Yet shining footprints on the air doth leave;

While through the deepening twilight, soft and slow,

The fragrant evening breezes come and go!

How beautiful, when light

Hath fled; and leaf and stream

Rest in a quiet dream.

Within the curtaining shadows of the Night;
While troops of stars look down with dewy rays,
And flowers droop their eyes beneath their gaze.

How silent is the air!

Who would not at such shrine

To holier thoughts incline?

The ever tranquil Night was made for prayer.
On the hush'd Earth, from the o'er-arching sky,
Doth not a solemn benediction lie?

And when the hours of night

Have slowly roll'd away,

And the victorious Day

Athwart the kindling air speeds arrowy light,
How gloriously, as in a second birth,
Awake to radiant life the heavens and earth!

So, when Life's eve shall fall,

Within my peaceful breast

Oh may Thy presence rest,

Soft as the hush of night, Father of All!
So from the sleep of death, with quickening ray,
Take me to radiant life, Thou God of Day!

ANNA BLACKWALL.

IN ALL THINGS GOD.

I READ God's awful name emblazon'd high
With golden letters on th' illumined sky;
Nor less the mystic characters I see
Wrought in each flower, inscribed on every

tree,

In every leaf that trembles to the breeze,
I hear the voice of God among the trees;

With Thee in shady solitudes I walk,
With Thee in busy crowded cities talk.

L

In every creature own Thy forming power,
In each event Thy providence adore,
Thy hopes shall animate my drooping soul,
Thy precepts guide me, and Thy fear control.
Thus shall I rest unmoved by all alarms,
Secure within the temple of Thine arms,
From anxious cares, from gloomy terrors free,
And feel myself omnipotent in Thee.

Then, when the last, the closing hour draws nigh,

And earth recedes before my swimming eye;
When trembling on the doubtful edge of fate
I stand, and stretch my views to either state,
Teach me to quit this transitory scene
With decent triumph, and a look serene ;
Teach me to fix my ardent hopes on high,
And, having lived to Thee, in Thee to die.
MRS BARBAULD, 1743-1825.

THE SWALLOWS.

SUGGESTED BY THE INCIDENT OF A PAIR OF SWALLOWS

HAVING ENTERED A CHURCH DURING DIVINE SERVICE.

GAY, guiltless pair,

What seek ye from the fields of heaven?

Ye have no need of prayer,

Ye have no sins to be forgiven.

Why perch ye here,

Where mortals to their Maker bend?

Can your pure spirits fear

The God ye never could offend?

Ye never knew

The crimes for which we come to weep;
Penance is not for you,
Blest wanderers of the upper deep.

To you 'tis given

To wake sweet Nature's untaught lays:
Beneath the arch of heaven

To chirp away a life of praise.

Then spread each wing

Far, far above, o'er lakes and lands,
And join the choirs that sing

In yon blue dome not rear'd with hands.