Three For Three.

"Giving up three for one!"--mother, You said in the long ago, When father, yourself, and John, mother, I left, o'er the deep to go. "Giving up three for one!"--mother, You said, and it sank in my heart; For tho' strong was my love for the one, mother, It was hard from the three to part.

But to-day, as I sit alone, mother, Rocking my little one's bed-- (Not Winnie's bed, dear, but her brother's--) I am thinking of what you said; And a sweet thought glads my heart, mother-- Can you guess what the thought can be? 'Tis, that tho' I'd but one in the start, mother, Yet now I have three for three.

Yes, three for three, my mother, God is good to your wandering child, So far from her father and brother, And you, in this western wild! And tho' her heart oftentimes yearneth For its loved ones over the sea, Yet ever it gratefully turneth To its home-ties--three for three.

Aye, three for three, sweet mother, Say, am I not happy to-day? Tho' something must ever be wanting, While far from you all away;-- Then thank the dear Lord, my mother, Who, afar o'er the lonely sea, Is blessing your absent daughter, With home ties--three for three!

NOW.

"Now is the accepted time."

Now, sinner, now! Not in the future, when thy longed-for measure Thou hast attained, of fame, or power, or pleasure, When thy full coffers swell with hoarded treasure, Not then, but now. God's time may not be thine. When thou art willing, His Spirit may have taken flight forever, No more thy soul with keen conviction filling, Softening thy spirit to repentance never,-- Now, sinner, now!

Now, Christian, now! Look round, and see what souls are daily dying; List!--everywhere the voice of human crying Smiteth the ear;--the moan, the plaint, the sighing, Come even now. Rise! gird thyself;--go forth where sorrow weepeth And ease the pang. Where sin holds guilty revel, Go tell of God! Where man securely sleepeth On ruin's verge, go, warn him of the evil Now, Christian, now!

Now, sinner, now! Day waneth fast! The noon is spent! To-morrow Is God's, not thine!--and dost thou hope to borrow An hour from doom, when bursts the cloud of sorrow That darkens now? Nay; the red bolt, e'en now, vindictive flashes The thunder rolls nearer, and still more near! Hourly the tide of wrath more sternly dashes On ruin's rocks!--oh, that thou wouldst but hear Now, sinner, now!

Now, Christian, now Gather thy sheaves--the harvest time is hasting Gather thy sheaves--the precious grain is wasting! Too many hours Earth's cup of nectar tasting Thou'st wasted now! Up, up!--the Master's coming steps already Echoing adown the steeps of heaven are heard! The angel-reapers, with firm hand and steady, Stand, dim-descried, waiting the signal-word Now, Christian, now!