Then turn thee, for thy time is short,
But trace not o'er the former way,

Lest idol pleasures court
Thy heedless soul astray.

Thou know'st how hard to hurry by,
Where on the lonely woodland road

Beneath the moonlight sky
The festal warblings flow'd ;

Where maidens to the Queen of Heaven
Wove the gay dance round oak or palm,

Or breath'd their vows at even
In hymns as soft as balm.

Or thee perchance a darker spell
Enthralls : the smooth stones of the flood",

By mountain grot or fell,
Pollute with infant's blood;

The giant altar on the rock,
The cavern whence the timbrel's call

h Isaiah lvii. 6. Among the smooth stones of the stream is thy portion, they, they are thy lot.

Affrights the wandering flock :-
Thou long'st to search them all.

Trust not the dangerous path again-
O forward step and lingering will !

O lov'd and warn'd in vain !
And wilt thou perish still ?

Thy message given, thine home in sight,
To the forbidden feast return?

Yield to the false delight
Thy better soul could spurn?

Alas, my brother ! round thy tomb
In sorrow kneeling, and in fear,

We read the Pastor's doom
Who speaks and will not hear.

The grey-hair'd saint may fail' at last,
The surest guide a wanderer

prove ;
Death only binds us fast
To the bright shore of love.

NINTH SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY.

And after the earthquake a fire; but the Lord was not in the fire: and after the fire, a still small voice. I Kings xix. 12.

IN troublous days of anguish and rebuke,
While sadly round them Israel's children look,

And their eyes fail for waiting on their Lord :
While underneath each awful arch of green,
On every mountain top, God's chosen scene

Of pure heart-worship, Baal is ador'd :

'Tis well, true hearts should for a time retire
To holy ground, in quiet to aspire

Towards promis'd regions of serener grace ;
On Horeb, with Elijah, let us lie,
Where all around on mountain, sand, and sky,

God's chariot-wheels have left distinctest trace:

There, if in jealousy and strong disdain
We to the sinner's God of sin complain,

Untimely seeking here the peace of heaven“ It is enough, O Lord ! now let me die “ Even as my fathers did : for what am I 6 That I should stand, where they have vainly

66 striven ?”—

Perhaps our God may of our conscience ask, - What doest thou here, frail wanderer from thy task ?

“ Where hast thou left those few sheep in the wild a?” Then should we plead our heart's consuming pain, At sight of ruin'd altars, prophets slain,

And God's own ark with blood of souls defil'd;

He on the rock may bid us stand, and see
The outskirts of his march of mystery,

His endless warfare with man's wilful heart;
First, His great Power He to the sinner shews,
Lo! at His angry blast the rocks unclose,

And to their base the trembling mountains part:

Yet the Lord is not here: 'tis not by Power
He will be known-but darker tempests lower ;

Still, sullen heavings vex the labouring ground: Perhaps His Presence thro' all depth and height, Best of all gems, that deck his crown of light,

The haughty eye may dazzle and confound.

God is not in the earthquake; but behold
From Sinai's caves are bursting, as of old,

The flames of His consuming jealous ire.
Woe to the sinner, should stern Justice prove
His chosen attribute ;-but He in love

Hastes to proclaim, “ God is not in the fire.”

on the

The storm is o'er—and hark ! a still small voice
Steals ear, to say,

Jehovah's choice
Is ever with the soft, meek, tender soul:
By soft, meek, tender ways He loves to draw
The sinner, startled by his ways of awe:

Here is our Lord, and not where thunders roll.

Back then, complainer ; loath thy life no more,
Nor deem thyself upon a desert shore,

Because the rocks the nearer prospect close.
Yet in fallen Israel are there hearts and eyes
That day by day in prayer like thine arise :

Thou know'st them not, but their Creator knows.

P