FAITH THAT WORKETH BY LOVE.

THO keepeth not God's word, yet saith,

WHO

I know the Lord, is wrong;

In him is not that bleffed faith

Through which the truth is ftrong; But he who hears and keeps the word, Is not of this world, but of God.

The faith His word hath caused to fhine

Will kindle love in thee;

More wouldst thou KNOW of things divine,
Deeper thy LOVE must be;

True faith not only gives thee light,
But ftrength to love and do the right.

He is in God, and God in him,

Who ftill abides in love;

'Tis love that makes the Cherubim

Obey and praise above;

For God is love, the loveless heart
Hath in His life and joy no part.

C. F. Gellert. 1757.

ACTIVE DUTY.

A

ARISE!

RISE! ye lingering saints, arise! Remember that the might of grace, When guilty flumbers sealed your eyes, Awakened you to run the race; And let not darkness round you fall, But hearken to the Saviour's call.

Arise !

Arise! because the night of fin
Muft flee before the light of day;
God's glorious Gospel, fhining in,
Muft chase the midnight gloom away:
You cannot true disciples be

If you ftill walk in vanity.

Arise! although the flesh be weak,
The spirit willing is and true,
And servants of the Mafter seek
To follow where it guided to.
Belovéd! oh, be wise indeed,
And let the spirit ever lead.

Arise!

Arise!

Arise! because our Serpent-foe,

Unwearied, strives by day and night; Remember, time is fhort below,

And wrestles on with hellifh might. Then boldly grasp both sword and shield

Who flumbers on the battle-field?

Arise!

Arise! before that hour unknown

The hour of death that comes ere long, And comes not to the weak alone,

But to the mighty and the ftrong.

Belovéd oft in spirit dwell

Upon the hour that none can tell.

Arise!

Arise it is the Mafter's will:

No more His heavenly voice despise,
Why linger with the dying still ?

He calls Arouse you, and arise!
No longer flight the Saviour's call,
It sounds to you, to me, to all.

Arise ! Ludwig Gotter.

U

WORK WHILE IT IS DAY.

P, Chriftian, up! - and fleep'ft thou still?
Daylight is glorious on the hill!

And far advanced, the sunny glow
Laughs in the sunny vale below:
The morning's fhadow, long and late,
Is ftretching o'er the dial's plate.

And are thine eyes, sad waker, say,
Filled with the tears of yesterday?
Or lowers thy dark and anxious brow
Beneath to-morrow's burthen now?
New ftrength for every hour is given-
Daily the manna fell from heaven!

See, link by link, the chain is made,
And pearl by pearl the coftly braid;
The daily thread of hopes and fears
Weaves up the woof of many years!
And well thy labour fhall have sped
If well thou weav'ft the daily thread.

Up, Christian, up, thy cares refign!
The past, the future, are not thine!

Show forth to-day the Saviour's praise;
Redeem the course of evil days;
Life's fhadow, in its lengthening gloom,

Falls daily nearer to the tomb!

Private Hours.

SERVING GOD.

NOT to fill the mouth of fame
My longing soul is stirred;

O, give me a diviner name!

Call me thy servant, Lord!

Sweet title that delighteth me-
Rank earnestly implored;
O, what can reach my dignity?
I am thy servant, Lord!

No longer would my soul be known
As self-suftained and free;

O, not mine own! O, not mine own!
Lord, I belong to thee!

In each aspiring burst of prayer,
Sweet leave my soul would ask
Thine every burden, Lord, to bear,
To do thine every task.