I have learned the song they sing

Whom Jesus hath set free,
And the glorious walls of heaven still ring

With my new-born melody.

No sin, no grief, no pain;

Safe in my happy home,
My fears all quelled, my doubts all slain,

Mine hour of triumph come.

Friends of my mortal years,

The trusted and the true, Ye are walking still through the valley of tears,

And I wait to welcome you.

Do I forget ?-Oh! No,:

For memory's golden chain
Still binds my heart to the hearts below,

Till they meet and trust again.

Each link is strong and bright;

And love's celestial flame
Flows swiftly down, like a river of light,

To the world from which I came.

Do you mourn when another star

Shines out from the glittering sky!
Do you weep when the raging voice of war,

And the storms of conflict die?

THY WILL BE DONE."

45

Then why should your tears run down,

And your hearts be sorely riven,
For another gem in the Saviour's crown,

And another soul in heaven.

“ THY WILL BE DONE."

My God, my Father, while I stray
Far from my home, in life's rough way,
Oh! teach me from

my
“ Thy will be done.”

heart to say,

If Thou should'st call me to resign,
What most I prize,-it ne'er was mine,
I only yield Thee what was Thine;

“Thy will be done."

If sickness waste me to decay,
Let me with cheerful faith obey,
And teach thy servant still to say-

“Thy will be done."

Renew my will from day to day;
Blend it with Thine, and take away
All that now makes it hard to say-

“Thy will be done."

And when on earth I breathe no more
The prayer, oft mixed with tears before,
I'll sing upon a happier shore-

“Thy will be done."

LITTLE TRAVELLERS.

“Who are they whose little feet,

Pacing life's dark journey through, Now have reached that heavenly seat

They had ever kept in view ?” “I from Greenland's frozen land ;"

“I from India's sultry plain ;” “I from Afric's barren sand;"

6 I from islands in the main."

All our earthly journey past,

Every tear and pain gone by,
Here together meet at last,

At the portals of the sky;
Each the welcome “ Come,” awaits,

Conquerors o'er death and sin! “ Lift your heads, ye golden gates,

And let the little travellers in.”

J. EDMERSTEN. GOOD MORNING.

47

GOOD MORNING,

“Oh, I am so happy!” a little girl said,
As she sprang, like a lark, from her low trundle-bed:
“ 'Tis morning, bright morning: good morning, papa:
O give me one kiss for good morning, mamma:
Only just look at my pretty canary,
Chirping his sweet good morning to Mary.
The sun is peeping straight into my eyes-
Good morning to you, Mister Sun, for you rise
Early to wake up my birdie and me,
And make us as happy as happy can be.”

“Happy you may be, my dear little girl,” And the mother stroked softly a clustering curl ; “Happy you can be, but think of the One Who wakened, this morning, both you and the sun." The little girl turned her bright eyes with a nod, “Mamma, may I say "Good morning' to God?”

Yes, little darling one, surely you may; Kneel, as you kneel every morning to pray. ” Mary knelt solemnly down, with her eyes Looking up earnestly into the skies;

And two little hands that were folded together, Softly she laid on the lap of her mother : “Good morning, dear Father in heaven,” she said, “I thank thee for watching my snug little bed;

For taking good care of me all the dark night,
And waking me up with the beautiful light.
O keep me from naughtiness all the long day,
Dear Saviour, who taught little children to pray."

SONG OF PRAISE TO GOD.

How glorious is our Heav'nly King,

Who reigns above the sky !
How shall a child presume to sing

His dreadful majesty ?

How
great

His

power is none can tell, Nor think how large His grace; Not men below, nor saints that dwell

On high before His face;

Not angels that stand round the LORD,

Can search His secret will :
But they perform His heav'nly word,

And sing His praises still.

Then let me join this holy train,

And my first offerings bring:
Th' eternal God will not disdain

To hear an infant sing.