If, in pity to our blindness,

They had brought the pardon needed, Still Jehovah's wondrous kindness

Had our warmest hopes exceeded.

If some prophet had been sent
With salvation's joyful news,
Who that heard the blest event

Could their warmest love refuse?

But 'twas He to whom in heaven
Hallelujahs never cease;

He, the mighty God, was given—
Given to us-a Prince of peace.

None but He who did create us
Could redeem from sin and hell;
None but He could reinstate us
In the rank from which we fell.

Had He come, the glorious Stranger, Deck'd with all the world calls great; Had He lived in pomp and grandeur, Crown'd with more than royal state,—

Still our tongues, with praise o'erflowing,
On such boundless love would dwell;
Still our hearts, with rapture glowing,
Feel what words could never tell.

But what wonder should it raise,
Thus our lowest state to borrow!

O the high mysterious ways,

God's own Son a child of sorrow!

'Twas to bring us endless pleasure
He our suffering nature bore;
'Twas to give us heavenly treasure
He was willing to be poor.

Come, ye rich, survey the stable
Where your infant Saviour lies;
From your full, o'erflowing table,
Send the hungry good supplies.

Boast not your ennobled stations;
Boast not that you're highly fed;
Jesus-hear it all ye nations !—

Had not where to lay His head.

Learn of me, thus cries the Saviour,
If my kingdom you'd inherit;
Sinner, quit your proud behaviour,
Learn my meek and lowly spirit.

Come, ye servants, see your station
Freed from all reproach and shame :
He who purchased your salvation
Bore a servant's humble name.

Come, ye poor, some comfort gather;
Faint not in the race you run;
Hard the lot your gracious Father
Gave His dear, His only Son.

Think that if your humbler stations
Less of worldly good bestow,
You escape those strong temptations
Which from wealth and grandeur flow.

See, your Saviour is ascended :

See, He looks with pity down!

Trust Him, all will soon be mended;
Bear His cross, you'll share His crown.

MRS. ELIZA FANNY MORRIS.

The Voice and the

ELIZA FANNY GOFFE is a native of London. In 1849, she married Mr. Josiah Morris, who is Reply," a collection of original poems. She lately issued a second volume of verse, entitled

now sub-editor of The Malvern News. Mrs. Morris published, in 1853,

"Life Lyrics."

THE FATHER'S VOICE.

POOR child of sin and woe,

Now listen to thy Father's pleading voice;
No longer need'st thou go
Without a friend to bid thy heart rejoice.

I know thou canst not rest

Until thou art from guilt and sorrow free;

Earth cannot make thee blest;

Come, bring thy suffering, bleeding heart to me.

How often in the hour

Of weariness would I have succoured thee !
But thou didst spurn the power,

And scorn the heart that loved so tenderly.

Oh, what on earth appears

To comfort thy distress and heal thy grief,
To dry thy bitter tears,

And offer thy poor sinking soul relief?

Thy life of sin has been

A toilsome path, without one cheering ray;
Now on thy Father lean,

And He will guide thee in a better way.

Come, leave the desert land

And all the husks on which thy soul has fed,
And trust the faithful Hand
That offers thee a feast of living bread.

O sinner! 'tis the voice

Of One, who long has loved and pitied thee!
He would thy heart rejoice,

And set thee from all sin and suffering free.

Oh, canst thou turn away?

It is thy Father that invites thee near!
Nay, sinner, weep and pray!

And heaven shall hail the penitential tear!

JOHN MORRISON, D.D.

THE REV. JOHN MORRISON, D.D., minister of Canisbay, Caithnesshire, was associated with Logan and others in preparing the Paraphrases from sacred Scripture which are still used by the Scottish National Church. The two following hymns have been ascribed to Dr.

Morrison. He died in 1799.

REPENTANCE.

COME, let us to the Lord our God
With contrite hearts return;
Our God is gracious, nor will leave
The desolate to mourn.

His voice commands the tempest forth,
And stills the stormy wave ;

And though His arm be strong to smite,
'Tis also strong to save.

Long hath the night of sorrow reign'd;
The dawn shall bring us light;
God shall appear, and we shall rise
With gladness in His sight.

Our hearts, if God we seek to know,
Shall know Him and rejoice;
His coming like the morn shall be,
Like morning songs His voice.

As dew upon the tender herb,
Diffusing fragrance round;
As showers that usher in the spring,
And cheer the thirsty ground:

So shall His presence bless our souls,
And shed a joyful light;

That hallow'd morn shall chase away
The sorrows of the night.

THE SAVIOUR'S ADVENT.

THE race that long in darkness pined
Have seen a glorious light;

The people dwell in day, who dwelt
In death's surrounding night.

To hail Thy rise, Thou better Sun,
The gathering nations come,
Joyous as when the reapers bear
The harvest-treasures home.

For Thou our burden hast removed, And quelled the oppressors' sway; Quick as the slaughter'd squadrons fell In Midian's evil day.

To us a Child of hope is born,

To us a Son is given;

Him shall the tribes of earth obey,

Him all the hosts of heaven.

His name shall be the Prince of peace,

For evermore adored,

The Wonderful, the Counsellor,

The great and mighty Lord.

His power increasing still shall spread;
His reign no end shall know;
Justice shall guard His throne above,
And peace abound below.