I Will Arise And Go To My Father.

Help me, O God, to trust in thee, Thou high and holy One! And may my troubled spirit flee For rest to thee alone.

In thee alone the soul can find Secure and sweet repose; And thou canst bid the desert mind To blossom as the rose.

Let not this spirit, formed to rise Where angels claim their birth, Forsake its home beyond the skies, And cling to barren earth.

The bird of passage knows the sign That warns him to depart; Shall I not heed the voice divine, That whispers in my heart,--

"Up! plume thy wings, soar far away! No longer idly roam! Fly to the realms of endless day; For this is not thy home."

This still, small voice, O, may I hear! Ere clouds and darkness come, And thunders in my startled ear Proclaim my final doom.

Father! to thee my spirit cries! Thy wandering child reclaim. Speak! and my dying faith shall rise, And wake a deathless flame.

EVENING HYMN.

Thou, from whom we never part, Thou, whose love is everywhere, Thou who seest every heart, Listen to our evening prayer.

Father! fill our souls with love, Love unfailing, full, and free, Love no injury can move, Love that ever rests on thee.

Heavenly Father! through the night Keep us safe from every ill; Cheerful as the morning light, May we wake to do thy will.

AUTUMN.

Sweet Summer, with her flowers, has past, I hear her parting knell; I hear the moaning, fitful blast, Sighing a sad farewell.

But, while she fades and dies away, In rainbow hues she glows; Like the last smile of parting day, Still brightening as she goes.

The robin whistles clear and shrill; Sad is the cricket's song; The wind, wild rushing o'er the hill, Bears the dead leaf along.

I love this sober, solemn time, This twilight of the year; To me, sweet Spring, in all her prime, Was never half so dear.

While death has set his changing seal On all that meets the eye, 'Tis rapture, then, within to feel The soul that cannot die;--

To look far, far beyond this sky, To Him who changes never. This earth, these heavens, shall change and die; God is the same for ever.

THE LORD'S DAY.

This is the day when Jesus woke From the deep slumbers of the tomb; This is the day the Saviour broke The bonds of fear and hopeless gloom.

This is indeed a holy day; No longer may we dread to die. Let every fear be cast away, And tears be wiped from every eye.

Sorrow and pain the Saviour knew; A dark and thorny path he trod; But heaven was ever in his view,-- That toilsome path led up to God.

Let every heart rejoice and sing; Let every sin and sorrow cease; Let children come this day and bring Their offering of love and peace.

THE MINISTRY OF PAIN.

Cease, my complaining spirit, cease; Know 'tis a Father's hand you feel; It leads you to the realms of peace; It kindly only wounds to heal.

My Father! what a holy joy Bursts on the sad, desponding mind, To say, when fiercest ills annoy,-- "I know my Father still is kind!"

This bids each trembling fear be still, Checks every murmur, every sigh; Patience then waits his sovereign will, Rejoiced to live,--resigned to die.

O blessed ministry of pain! To teach the soul its real worth; To lead it to that source again, From whence it first derived its birth.