Nor on the pleasing vision 'rose
A thought thy labors here would close,
And thy loved counsels end.

We hoped to see believers stand
With thee upon the wave-washed strand,
The Savior's name to own;
Thy argumentative display,
Of His great love, would many sway,
To seek the grace thus shown.

But Providence calls thee away-
We own its most unerring sway,
And to the mandate bend;
And pray its brightest rays benign,
On thee and thine may ever shine,
And all thy steps attend.

We cannot wish kind Heaven to shed
Blessings more copious on thy head,
Than those for us implored;

A growth in knowledge, and in grace,
A lot among the blood-bought race,
And peace these paths afford.

And when death closes up the scene,
No darksome clouds to intervene,
The Savior's love to obscure,
But bursting on faith's ravished eye,
Bright hopes of immortality,

As God's own word most sure.

Beloved brother! oh, farewell!
"Accents how painful who can tell,
Where kindred souls unite;'
May'st thou so wield the sword divine,
As with resplendence pure to shine,
In realms of fadeless night.

RECEPTION OF TWO BRETHREN INTO
THE CHURCH.

Welcome to the fold of Jesus, youthful votaries of the cross! You, who to secure his favor, count all earthly gain as dross. See! the Scribe with ready fingers, waiting to enrol each

name,

With Immanuel's happy followers, whose companions you 've became.

Lo! each friendly brother greets you, pleased that you so soon have fled

To the hope that's set before you, through the pathway Jesus led.

Candidates for endless glory, you have now commenced a strife,

That will call each power to action, and will only cease with

life!

Yet the victory is certain, if you make his word your guide, By this lamp, your footsteps aided, need not from the pathway slide;

Not as in the Olimpic races, where all but one must run in vain;

Each shall wear a wreath unfading, soon as each the goal shall gain.

But what! oh, what is ceaseless glory? crowns unfading! what are they?

Seraphs clad with dazzling brightness! scan you what these words convey!

Crowns unfading! ceaseless glory! let me on these sweet words dwell;

Is there aught in human language can these rapturous accents swell,

Or exceed them? Notes from Calvary tell us how these blessings came;

"Jesus died, and rose triumphant ! and imparts them through his name!'

Sweet! oh, sweetest name of Jesus! may this accent be the last

That vibrates upon my ear, when the dreams of life are past, And assure me of the mandate, soon to burst my dark retreat, From my death-sealed slumbers waken, and conduct me to his feet.

THE AGED PILGRIM.

TO MRS. W

See the happy aged Pilgrim, ready for her long sought rest, Lingering on the brink of Jordan, waiting for the high behest!

Soon will the command be given, spirit drop the cumbrous

clod,

Leave this feeble, painful mansion, for the presence of thy

God!

Early thou didst seek the Savior, and didst give to Him thy heart,

When earth's charms were most alluring, thou didst choose the better part;

Many times he sure has blest thee, made thy heart with love to glow,

Has been with thee in affliction, when that heart was filled

with woe.

Will He now forsake his servant, cause his faithfulness to

fail?

When life's lamp shows its last glimerings, shall the enemy prevail?

No! He sheds his comforts o'er her, now when life's allurements cease;

He supports his feeble servant, and imparts to her his

peace.

He will light death's darkest valley, He her rod, her staff

will prove,

He will cheer her with his presence, and support her with

his love;

Aged Pilgrim, shout Hosannah! while thou dost continue

here,

Aided by thy powerful Savior, Jordan's streams thou need'st not fear,

Though the waves swell high around thee, boldly venture on the flood,

And thou shalt be safely landed, in the presence of thy God.

ADDRESS TO NEW BRUNSWICK.

Adieu! New Brunswick! thy rock-crested shore
I leave, with choicest friends of spirits rare;
I do feel sad, to think that I no more
Their kind attentive sympathies shall share.
Led by an unseen providential hand,

While yet a child, here was my peaceful home;
And though I sometimes sighed for my own land,
I was content from hence no more to roam;

But darksome clouds sometimes 'round Pilgrims rise,
That Heaven's designs may each accomplished be;
And I now quit these hospitable skies,

For the loved land of my nativity.

And as the steamer o'er the proud wave glides,
And from my view each mountain top retires,

I own a power supreme o'er all presides,

And hope's bright beams my saddened breast inspires.
Well I remember, when in childhood's pride,
With spirits buoyant as this wafting breeze,

I first these lofty mountain tops descried;

Pleased with the varied hues that decked the trees.

But childhood hours and youthful days are fled,
And time's dark shadows o'er my pathway steals;
And while on me her sable robe is spread,
She on my form her fading power reveals.
Where'er kind providence may cast my lot,
To me New Brunswick will be ever dear;
And memory linger o'er some favorite spot,
And shed affection's tributary tear.

Ah! dear the sod, beneath which lies concealed
Kindred, and friends, by death's cold fetters bound,
Near whom, I thought, when from life's burdens freed,
To sleep in peace till the last trump should sound!
And dear! oh, very dear the wave-washed strand!
Where I the Savior's precious name confessed;
Yielded obedience to his high command,
And of His promises became possessed.
And dear the place where with a happy few,
I oft assembled 'round his sacred board,

Our prayers to offer, and our strength renew,
And to each other mutual aid afford.

New Brunswick! from thy rock-environed shore,
I now depart with sentiments most kind;
May Heaven its richest blessings on thee pour,
While I thee leave my earlier home to find.

TO PORTLAND, MAINE.

Most pleasing site, my early childhood's home!
Though from thy soil destined for years to roam,
Not changing scenes, nor all absorbing time,
Could me quite wean from thy salubrious clime;
But I to some sequestered spot would stray,
And muse in solitude the hours away.
But 't was not for this land alone I grieved,
A deeper wound my bosom had received;
And darksome clouds over my skies were cast,
And my young spirit feared the threatened blast.
Yet, among strangers I found friends most kind,
Whose tender sympathies consoled my mind;
May these in Heaven amply rewarded be,
For all their acts of kindnesses to me;

And in their land* I was content to abide,

Till plunged life's bark beneath time's whelming tide, But Heaven had blessings still in store for me,

And I once more this happy country see.

Cold, and insensible must be his breast,

Who can behold with feelings unimpressed,

After a lapse of forty years or more,

Places in childhood often rambled o'er,

And think of those who their young footsteps led,

Now numbered with the cold and silent dead.

This house, the yard, the barn where hung the swing, Each to my mind fond recollections bring;

* St. John, New Brunswick.