They left not home to cross the briny sea,
With the proud conqueror's ambitious aim,
To wrong the guileless, to enslave the free,
And win a blood-stained wreath of doubtful fame,
By deeds unworthy of the christian name;
Nor to inspect, with taste's inquiring eye,
Temple and palace of gigantic frame,
Or pyramid up-soaring to the sky,

Trophies of art's rich power in ages long gone by.

Nor did their fancy nurse the gentle dream
Of Nature's fond enthusiast, who, intense
In admiration of her charms, would seem

To worship HER, forgetful of th' offence
Given to her great and glorious MAKER thence !
In them the woodland scenery's sylvan thrall,
The sunny vale, or cloud-capt eminence,

The brooklet's murmur, or the cataract's fall, But wakened thoughts of Him whose word had formed them all.

For they went forth as followers of the Lamb,
To spread his gospel-message far and wide,
In the dread power of Him, the great I AM,-
In the meek spirit of the Crucified,—
With unction from the Holy Ghost supplied,
To war with error, ignorance and sin,

To exalt humility, to humble pride,

To still the passions' stormy strife within,

Through wisdom from above immortal souls to win ;—

To publish unto those who sat in night

And death's dark shadow, tidings of glad things ;How unto them the gospel's cheering light

Was risen, with life and healing on its wings;

How He, the Lord of glory, King of kings,

Their souls to save from sin's enthralling yoke, Had left those realms where harps of golden strings, By seraphs touched, in heavenly music spoke, And by his mighty power their chains of bondage broke,—

How he for them upon the cross had died,

And poured his blood to cleanse their guilt away,That, plunged beneath its sin-effacing tide,

Their spirits, made no more the spoiler's prey, Might stand before Him, clothed in white array, The Saviour's ransomed and redeemed among, Who worship in His presence night and day,

And join in that "innumerable throng"

Who raise thanksgiving's psalm, salvation's joyful song.

Such was their errand! What though they might fare
Too oft as wanderers on a foreign strand,

Or "lonely pilgrims, as their fathers were?"
They trusted still their Master's guiding hand,
And felt, anon, their humble faith expand;

For He who sent them forth at times would

"A rock's vast shadow in that weary land," Or give them, in the riches of his love,

prove

To drink the way-side brook, and lift their hopes above.

Nobly, as followers of the Nazarene,

Did CAREY, MARSHMAN, WARD, perform their part; And by degrees the blessed fruits were seen

In many a contrite and converted heart; Fruits which might cause unbidden tears to start From eyes unused to weep; because they told Faith was their pole-star, and God's word their chart; Even that faith, more precious far than gold, That word of promise sure, whose truths are manifold.

Amply were these fulfilled! the chains of caste

Were broken; languages and tongues made one; That mighty power, THE PRESS, its influence vast

Lent to the cause, that "they who read, might run ;"

And, more to spread the kingdom of his Son,
God raised up native preachers, men untaught
By worldly wisdom, yet surpassed by none

In simple zeal for Him whose praise they sought,
Because his sinless blood their sinful souls had bought.

Thus, many a solitary place made glad,

The wilderness forgot its earlier doom; The joyful desert, with new beauty clad, Rivalled the rose in its luxuriant bloom ; Thy glory, Lebanon! was given for gloom,

To those who sat in darkness and in night; And they who in the shadow of the tomb

Before had slept, beheld the radiance bright Of that arising Sun whose beams are life and light.

Such was their

recompense, whose arduous toil

Had spread through heathen lands Jehovah's name ; Tarriers at home divided, too, the spoil,

Their aim, their object, and their hopes the same; Nor less to be revered their humble fame,

Though less conspicuously such may have striven, Who fanned at home the missionary flame,

Whose frequent prayers were like the hidden leaven, As by their household hearths they built their hopes in heaven.

Hence SUTCLIFF'S, FULLER's names are justly dear,

RYLAND and PEARCE in many a heart inshrined;

With equal zeal and love they laboured here,
Each filling up the part to each assigned,

All in one work of love to all combined !

Though Paul may plant, Apollos water, still,—
Where both their proper station seem to find,
And zealously its duties to fulfil,-

The blessing is the Lord's-the increase, of his will.

To Him, then, be the glory! All renown
Which man can give to man, must soon decay.
Father, before thy throne we cast each crown;
Thine be the honour, thine the praise alway!
Be thou the guard, the guide, the hope, the stay,
Of all who prize the gospel of thy Son,
Whether at home they hear, or preach, or pray,
Or on thine errands to far regions run;

That so thy kingdom come, thy will on earth be done!

Raise up, and send forth, yet, to heathen lands

Those who shall spread thy name through every clime! And oh, may prayerful hearts and holy hands,

At home uplifted, aid, from time to time, To banish error, ignorance, and crime;

Till every tongue confess, and bend each knee; And, in the words of prophecy sublime,

Even as the waters cover the wide sea,

Earth may itself be filled with knowledge, Lord, of thee!