I hear the invitation,

And fain would rise and come,

A sinner to salvation;

An exile to his home:
But, while I here must linger,
Thus, thus let all I see
Point on, with faithful finger,
To heaven, O Lord, and thee.

BIRTH OF A CHILD.

Yet man is born unto trouble, as the sparks fly upward. - Job 5: 7.

GENTLE stranger! fearless come
To our quiet, happy home; -
Bud of being, beauty's flower,
Sprung to birth this smiling hour,
While upon thy form we gaze,
Grateful thoughts to heaven we raise.

Nothing, yet, thine eyes can see,
Of the world's dread mystery;
Of the tumult and the strife,
That imbitter human life;
But thy Maker's eye can view
Present scenes, and future, too.

Little can thy bosom know

Of the pangs and griefs, that flow

-

From a heart impure within,-
From a world defiled by sin;
Yet, if trembling life is spared,
Heaven, in mercy, be thy guard.

Saviour! from thy heavenly throne,
Smile upon this little one;
Let thy spirit be its guide, -
Let its wants be well supplied;
Cleanse it by thy precious blood,
Fit it for thy high abode.

A FATHER'S PRAYER.

Come down, ere my child die.

John 4: 49.

JESUS, great healer of mankind,
Who dost our sorrows bear;
Let an afflicted parent find
An answer to his prayer.

I look for help in thee alone,
To thee for succor fly;

My son is sick, my darling son,

And at the point to die.

By deep distress a suppliant made,

By agony of grief,

Most justly might thy love upbraid
My lingering unbelief.

Surely, if thou pronounce the word,
If thou the answer give,

My dying son shall be restored,
And to thy glory live.

O, save the father, in the son,
Restore him, Lord, to me;

My heart the miracle shall own,
And give him back to thee.

THE DYING SON.

And the king was much moved, and went up to the chamber over the

AND must thou die, my darling boy?

I see the fatal shade,

That o'er thy blooming cheek of joy

The hand of death has laid:

And soon the appointed hour must come,
To bear thy ransomed spirit home.

I loved to gaze upon thy face,

And mark thine open brow,

Where care as yet had stamped no trace,
To picture human woe:

There, all was peaceful, all was fair,

Like the sweet smile, that rested there.

Must I no more behold that smile,
Nor feel thy hand entwine,
In fond, endearing love, awhile,
Its gentle clasp in mine?

Or see thine ardent spirit glow

With joys, that only youth can know?

But these are selfish thoughts, that wrong
A Christian parent's love;

Vain thoughts, that suit the worldly throng, Who never look above

Earth's

bounded scene earth's narrow

sphere,

But centre all their treasures here.

Let me not mourn, that thou wilt be
A tenant of the sky,

Escaped from life's tumultuous sea,
And frail mortality:

When storms arise, and tempests blow,
No adverse gale thy bark shall know.

Let me rejoice, to think that thou
Hast early joined the blest;

Before thy youthful heart could know
Aught to disturb its rest,

Before earth's chilling storms had given

A blight to fruit prepared for heaven.

BY THE BED-SIDE OF A SICK CHILD.

David, therefore, besought God for the child.-2 Sam. 12: 16. Now all is done, that love, and care,

And skilful kindness could suggest; And he, who heard our anxious prayer, Will answer as his love thinks best: O, that both hopes and fears were still, Waiting on his mysterious will.

And yet, both hopes and fears will crowd
Around that bright and precious child;
And both will speak their thoughts aloud,
Till this distracted heart is wild :
O, might they all give place to one
Heart-filling prayer, God's will be done.'

Sometimes a dream of what may be,

Comes, like soft sunshine, o'er the heart; I hear his prattle at my knee,

Feel his warm cheek near mine, and start To find it -ah! so cold and pale, That hope (and well-nigh faith) doth fail.

And then, again, the dream returns,

His

Childhood and youth are safely o'er; eye with manhood's ardor burns, Fears hover round his path no more: Hopes, with their buds and blossoms, all Burst, where his bounding footsteps fall.