AYS of my youth!

Ye have glided away;
Hairs of my youth!

Ye are frosted and gray;

Eyes of my youth!

Your keen sight is no more;
Cheeks of my youth!

Ye are furrow'd all o'er;
Strength of my youth!

All thy vigor is gone;

Thoughts of my youth!

Your gay visions are flown.

Days of my youth! I wish not your recall;

Hairs of my youth! I'm content ye shall fall;

Eyes of my youth! you much evil have seen;

Cheeks of my youth! bathed in tears you have been;
Thoughts of my youth! ye have led me astray;
Strength of my youth! why lament thy decay?

Days of my age! ye will shortly be past;
Pains of my age! yet awhile ye can last;
Joys of my age! in true wisdom delight;

Eyes of my age! be religion your light;
Thoughts of my age! dread ye not the cold sod;
Hopes of my age! be ye fixed on your God.

Seasons of Prayer.

To prayer, to prayer!-for the morning breaks,
And earth in her Maker's smile awakes.
His light is on all below and above-
The light of gladness, and life, and love.
O! then, on the breath of this early air,
Send upward the incense of grateful prayer.

To prayer!-for the glorious sun is gone,
And the gathering darkness of night comes on.
Like a curtain from God's kind hand it flows,
To shade the couch where his children repose.

Then kneel, while the watching stars are bright,
And give your last thoughts to the Guardian of night.

To prayer!-for the day that God has bless'd
Comes tranquilly on with its welcome rest.
It speaks of creation's early bloom;

It speaks of the Prince who burst the tomb.
Then summon the spirit's exalted powers,
And devote to heaven the hallowed hours.

There are smiles and tears in the mother's eyes,

For her new-born infant beside her lies.

O hour of bliss! when the heart o'erflows

With rapture a mother only knows.

Let it gush forth in words of fervent prayer;

Let it swell up to heaven for her precious care.

There are smiles and tears in that gathering band,
Where the heart is pledged with the trembling hand.
What trying thoughts in her bosom swell,
As the bride bids parents and home farewell!
Kneel down by the side of the tearful fair,
And strengthen the perilous hour with prayer.

Kneel down by the dying sinner's side,
And pray for his soul through Him who died.
Large drops of anguish are thick on his brow-
Oh! what is earth and its pleasures now!
And what shall assuage his dark despair,
But the penitent cry of humble prayer?

Kneel down at the couch of departing faith,
And hear the last words the believer saith.
He has bidden adieu to his earthly friends;
There is peace in his eye that upward bends;

There is peace in his calm confiding air;

For his last thoughts are God's, his last words prayer.

The voice of prayer at the sable bier!

A voice to sustain, to soothe, and to cheer.

It commends the spirit to God who gave;

It lifts the thoughts from the cold, dark grave;

It points to the glory where He shall reign,

Who whisper'd, "Thy brother shall rise again."

The voice of prayer in the world of bliss!
But gladder, purer, than rose from this.
The ransom'd shout to their glorious King,
Where no sorrow shades the soul as they sing;
But a sinless and joyous song they raise;
And their voice of prayer is eternal praise.

SEASONS OF PRAYER.

Awake, awake, and gird up thy strength
To join that holy band at length.

To Him who unceasing love displays,

Whom the powers of nature unceasingly praise,
To Him thy heart and thy hours be given;

For a life of prayer is the life of heaven.

The Widow of Nain and her Son.

WARE.

WAKE not, O mother! sounds of lamentation!
Weep not, O widow! weep not hopelessly!
Strong is His arm, the Bringer of salvation,
Strong is the Word of God to succour thee!

Bear forth the cold corpse, slowly, slowly bear him:
Hide his pale features with the sable pall:
Chide not the sad one wildly weeping near him:
Widow'd and childless, she has lost her all!

Why pause the mourners? Who forbids our weeping? Who the dark pomp of sorrow has delayed?

"Set down the bier-he is not dead but sleeping! Young man, arise!”—He spake, and was obey'd!

Change then, O sad one, grief to exultation:
Worship and fall before Messiah's knee;
Strong was His arm, the Bringer of salvation;
Strong was the Word of God to succour thee!

HEBER.