Thou man of God! would there not be a burst Of tears in Heaven? Oh! live the life of prayer, The life of faith in the meek Son of God, AUTUMNAL HYMN. REV. H. F. LYTE. THE leaves around me falling The day, in night declining, The light my path surrounding, Before the morning's ray, Pass upwards into heaven, The friends gone there before me Tempt sweetly to the sky: "Why wait," they say, "and wither 'Mid scenes of death and sin? Oh, rise to glory hither, And find true life begin!" 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! TO THE MAGDALEN. SAMUEL M. WARING. YES, weep! O woman, frail and fair; Can ne'er efface the past; Though other drops, whose power divine Can wash thy stains away, Must plead e'en more than tears like thine, More holy still than they. Had He who pardons bid thee bring That word had ne'er unseal'd the spring Ah! 'twas not Sinai's flash that taught No; milder, mightier rays it caught, And lo! the waters flow. Pour then thine odours-pour, and see The vase of clay that holds for thee |