Then cheer thee, cheer thee, though the flame
Consume thy wasting suffering frame,

His gold shall suffer harm nor loss,
He will but purge away the dross,
And fit it, graced with many a gem,
To form His glorious diadem.

And He will cheer thee, He will calm
Thy pain intense with heavenly balm,
Shew thee the martyr's white-robed throng,
Thy place prepared, that host among;
That weight of glory will o'erpower
The anguish of life's suffering hour.

Yes, He will cheer thee-He will prove,
The soul encircled by His love,

Can meekly, midst her anguish, say
"Still will I trust Him, though He slay;"
And He will make His words thine own,

Father! Thy will, not mine, be done."

"INVALID'S HYMN BOOK."

My only Saviour! when I feel

O'erwhelmed in spirit, faint, opprest, 'Tis sweet to tell Thee, while I kneel Low at Thy feet-Thou art my rest.

O! sweet will be the welcome day,

When from her toils and woes released,

My parting soul, in death shall say,

Now, Lord! I come to Thee for rest!"

IBID.

XXXI. RECOVERY FROM DANGEROUS SICKNESS.

I wound, and I heal.-DEUT. xxxii. 39.

Deut. xxxii. 39—1 Sam. ii. 6, 7-2 Sam. xxii. 6, 7, 17—Job. v. 18-xxxiii. 29, 30-xxxvi. 10-Psalm xxii. 24-xxx. 2, 3, 5, 7-11-xxxi. 7-xxxii. 4-7-xxxiv. 4-xxxvii. 39-xl. 1-3-lii. 9lvi. 13-lxvi. 9-11, 13, 14, 16-20-lxviii. 19, 20-lxxvii. 1-3— lxxxi. 7-lxxxvi. 12, 13, 15, 17-xciv. 17, 19-cii. 17, 19, 20, 23, 24-ciii. 2-4, 10, 13, 14-cvi. 44-cvii. 13-15, 18-20-cxvi. 1-14 -cxviii. 5, 17, 18-cxix. 67,71-cxx. 1-cxxiv. 1, 4-cxxvi. 3, 5 -cxxx. 1-cxxxvi. 3, 23—cxlv. 14-cxlvi. 8-Isaiah xii. 1— Xxxviii. 9-20-xl. 29-Lam. iii. 55-58.

Phil. ii. 27.

He came, the sweet angel my

Father assign'd

To watch o'er my path in the sky,

I knew not if yet from that path I'd declin’d,
Or if only temptation was nigh.

He touch'd me:-how I shrunk from his touch!
But my spirit with ecstacy glow'd;

It long'd to be free, for its prospects were such
As no pains of the body could cloud.

My Father! I deem'd Thou hadst call'd me to dwell

In the rest Thou hadst for me above;

But I find myself still in the flesh.—It is well

If I go—if I stay, it is love.

Love ordered the plan, and in love such as Thine,
How shall I not calmly confide!

Which spared not, to save me, a ransom divine,
The Lamb who on Calvary died.

O welcome the sufferings whenever they come,
That bring with them comforts like these;
Let me always be filled with such foretastes of home,
And I sigh not for health or for ease.

That angel's soft touch thus again would I feel,

Though my heart-string with agony quiver; The pressure is mercy, it wounds but to heal; It will end in enjoyment for ever!

ANON.

In trouble and in grief, O God,
Thy smile hath cheer'd my way;
And joy hath budded from each thorn
That round my footsteps lay.

The hours of pain have yielded good,
Which prosp'rous days refused;

As herbs, though scentless when entire,
Spread fragrance when they're bruised.

The oak strikes deeper, as its boughs
By furious blasts are driven;
So life's vicissitudes the more
Have fixed my heart in heaven.

R

All-gracious Lord! whate'er my lot
In other times may be,

I'll welcome still the heaviest grief
That brings me near to Thee.

"THOUGHTS OF PEACE,"

These eyes that were half closed in death,
Now dare the noontide blaze ;

My voice, that scarce could speak my wants,
Now hymns Jehovah's praise.

How pleasant to my feet, unus'd
To tread the daisied ground!
How sweet to my unwonted ear

The streamlet's running sound!

How soft the first breath of the breeze
That on my temples play'd!
How sweet the woodland evening song,
Full floating down the glade!

But sweeter far the lark that soars
Through morning's blushing ray;
For then unseen, unheard, I join
His lonely, heav'nward lay.

O Lord my God! all these delights

I to Thy mercy owe;

For Thou hast rais'd me from the couch

Of sickness, pain, and woe.

'Twas Thou that from the whelming wave

My sinking soul redeem'd ;

'Twas Thou that o'er destruction's storm

A calming radiance beam'd.

GRAHAME.

What are the mines of shining wealth,
The strength of youth, the bloom of health,-
What are all joys compared with those
Thine everlasting word bestows!

Long unafflicted, undismayed,

In pleasure's path secure I strayed;
Thou mad'st me feel Thy chast'ning rod,
And straight I turn'd unto my God!

What though it pierced my fainting heart,
I blessed the hand that caused the smart;
It taught my tears awhile to flow,
But saved me from eternal woe!

Oh! hadst Thou left me unchastised,
Thy precept I had still despised;
And still the snare, in secret laid,
Had my unwary feet betrayed!

I love Thee, therefore, O my God!
And breathe toward Thy dear abode ;
Where in Thy presence fully blest,
Thy chosen saints for ever rest.