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" TO KNOW THE LOVE OF CHRIST."

The God of glory dwells on high,
He rules the armies of the sky;
Ten thousand thousand round Him stand,
Obedient to their king's command.

The God of glory, moved by love,
Descends in mercy from above ;
And He, before whom angels bow,
Is found a man of grief below.

This love is great, too great for thought,
Its length and breadth in vain are sought ;
No tongue can tell its depth and height,
The love of God is infinite.

But though His love no measure knows, The Saviour to His people shews Enough to give them joy, when known : Enough to make their hearts His own.

Constrained by this, they walk with Him,
His love, their most delightful theme ;
To glorify Him here, their aim;
Their hope, in heaven to praise His name.

“ O THAT I HAD WINGS LIKE A DOVE!”

o Ziox! when I think on thee,

I long for pinions like the dove, And mourn to think that I should be

So distant from the place I love.

A captive here, and far from home,

For Zion's sacred walls I sigh ; To Zion all the ransomed come,

And see the Saviour eye to eye.

While here I walk on hostile ground,

The few that I can call my friends Are, like myself, with fetters bound,

And weariness our steps attends.

But yet we shall behold the day,

When Zion's children shall return ; Our sorrows then shall fee away,

And we shall never, never mourn.

The hope that such a day will come,

Makes even the captive's portion sweet ; Though now we wander far from home,

In Zion soon we all shall meet.

“ LESS THAN THE LEAST OF ALL SAINTS."

A Saint! Oh! would that I could claim
The privileged, the honoured name,
And confidently take my stand,
Though lowest, in the saintly band !

Would, though it were in scorn applied,
That term the test of truth could bide!
Like kingly salutations given
In mockery to the King of Heaven.

A Saint! And what imports the name
Thus bandied in derision's game?
“Holy, and separate from sin ;
“ To good, nay, even to God akin.”

Is such the meaning of a name,
From which a Christian shrinks with shame?
Yes, dazzled with the glorious sight,
He owns his crown is all too bright,

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